The evening times., 1895-09-05
A Passion
in the Desert


At the time of Gen. Desaix's expedition
into upper Egypt, one of his soldiers, a
Provencal, fell into the hands of some
Arabs and was taken by them into the
deserts beyond the cataracts OF the Nile.
In order to put a traIqullizing distance
between the French army and themselves,
the Arabs made a forced march and did
not stop til night. They camped about q
well, hidden among some palms, where
they had previously buried a quantity of
PROVISIONS.
Never imagining that the thought OF
flight could come to their prisoner, they
tied only his hands, and, after eating few
dates and giving barley TO the horses, they
all slept When the hardy provencai saw
his enemies Unconscious, he drew scimeter
to him with his teeth and, fixing the blade
between his knees. cut the cord that bound
his wrists and was free. .=
He Immediately seized carbine, a dag
ger, some powder and balls, and a small
supply of dates and barley; then strapping
the scinleter about them, he ieapcd on a
horse and spurred it violently to ward wi here
he supposed the French army to be-
He was SO impatient to see the camp and
he pressed the already wearied animal SO
hard that the poor beast sank under him,
his flanks cruelty torn, and expired, leav-
ing the Frenchman alone in the desert.
After walking long time over the sands.
with the courage of an escaping convict,
the soldier was obliged to halt; twilight as
failing. In spite of the splendor of the
heavens at night in the Orient, he could
not go further.
ua &c y,as Ia , ~
slat of stone and slept there without
taking the smallest precaution for his
safety during the night. His last thought
was a regret to have left the Ara bs, whose
wandering life seemed smiling one to
him now that he was far from them and
helpless.
He was awakened by the pitiless ray of
the sun, which fell straight on the granite
and made an intoIera Bile heat The Pro-
vencaI moved to the shade thrown by the
majestic, verdant tufts of the palms.
He gazed at these solitary trees and quiv-
cred: they recalled to him the delicate shafts
of the leaf-crowned Saracen columns in the
cathedral at Aries. But after he had
counted the palms he threw a glance a bout
him and the most frightful despair seized
his soul He saw a boundless ocean. The
blackish sands of the desert spread in
every direction, as far as the eye could
see, and they shone like a sheet of steel
struck by glaring light. He knew not
il it was a sea of glass or OF lakes smooth
as mirrors
Carried in layers. fiery vapor whirled
above these shifting sands. The sky had
purity and brightness that was hopeless.
for it left nothing to the imagination The
earth and sky were afire. The silence was
fearful in its savage intensity. Space, the
infinite, weighed upon the soul; Not a
breath of air, not a cloud. The horizon
ended. as does the sea in fine weather,
with line OF light as distin as sword
blade.
The Provencal embraced the trunk OF
one of the palms as though it had been a
friend, and then, shaded by the slim,
straight shadow that the tree threw on the
granite, he wept, gazing at the merciless
scene before him. He cries out, as though
to tempt the solitude. His voice, lost in
the cavities of the eminence, awoke no
echo; the echo was in his heart. The Pro-
vencai was twenty-five. He loaded the
carbine. There is still time he said,
laying down the weapon.
The soldier then dreamed of France. He
could feel the streams about Paris; he
could see the towns through which he had
passed: the faces of his comrades; the
smallest events of bis life. Soon his imagi-
nation let him see the flintstones of his
dear Provence in the whrls of heat which
undulated above the desert. Fearing thiS