The Valentine Democrat. [volume] (Valentine, Cherry Co., Neb.) 1896-1898, 1896-07-30
vT E sat together in the veran-
wv da at Shepherds Hotel.
Cairo Law hona9th and

Sdllo ICY
around us-Cairo filthy, m~ulti-colored,
and malodorous, but always pictur-
esque. Suddenly an Arab boy came
around the corner, and with a salaam
of the deepest, handed some mail to
Grimshaw. Then he squatted down
ON the veranda boards, with his great
black eyes fixed on my companions
face, waiting for further orders.
Your boy, Captain?" l asked.
yes" replied Grimshaw, but a good
deal more than that. l should De buried
in the Soudan now if it were not for
Ibrahim yonder."
Tell me about it, please" I asked,
rather eagerly; for this small Arab in
the clear, white tunic, and brilliant tur-
ban interested me nightly.
Grimshaw settled himself back in the
bungalow chair and began:
"You know. Of course" he said, chat
l was in Khartoum with Gordon. [
did not regularly belong to the Gener-
ais forces, but l had volunteered as
one of his aides-de-camp. Well, we
were shut up in that death trap City of
Khartoum, surrounded on every side
by the forces of the Mahdi-myriads of
fanatical SoudaneSe Arabs following
that high priest of bloodshed. We En-
gliSh were but q mere handful of men;
the AUXILIARY forces were wretchedly
small. Our only hope was aid from
Egypt; and, as the whole world knows,
that never anne. Poor Gordon was al
lowed to fall a victim to the Mahdfs
sword, and most of the garrison were
slain. With the exception Of Slatin
l was the only European who got out
of the doomed city with his life. That
l did so was due to Ibrahim."
Here the Arab boy-hearing his name
mentioned-looked up and smiled,
showing a row Of teeth exceptionally
even and white.
"a few days after we entered Khar-
toum," continued Grimshaw, 81 was
patroling the town under Gen. Gordon's
order, when we came across a great
rabble Of boys, hallooing and shouting
at a d%eafenilg rate. l sent an Egyp-
tan soldier to discover the cause, and
he reported that the young 'fuzzy-wuz-
Zies' (it is so that Private Atkins of her
Majesty's troops denominates the Sou
danesel were having fun with one of
their number. l vas then, as now, in
tenSely interested in native manners
and customs. Hating my men, l en-
tered the boisterous Gordon of boys to
+h1 anroo of +1ns, Is, -,
The little raScals were teasing one
Of their number. Teasing indeed, in
this case. is too mild a word. They
were beating and stoning the lad, who
lay bruised and half-blinded in the gut
ter. HIS turban was off, and his al
ready scant clothing had been torn to
shredS. l sprang into the middle of the
mob and demanded the of such
brutal treatment. At first they affect
ed not to understand my Arabic, and
went on beating their victim. but when
l had soundly cuffed II or two and
summoned my interpreter to my aid,
I succeeded in making them answer.
He is the renegade's son. said a
ringleader-'Hassan, the renegade'S
son. Stone him, in the name of the
prophet
Then l understood. The poor boys
father had taken service with Gordon,
leaving his offspring to suffer all the
cruelties which the Khartoum chill
dren, egged on by their elders, were
sure to infict upon him. l lost no time
in calling up a few men and sending
that pack of youthful fanatics to the
right about. They went away, vowing
dire vengeance on the 'renegade'S
brat and l raised my protege from the
dust. He had tainted from pain and
loss of blood, but one of our surgeons
soon brought him to. When he opened
his eyes and saw me he smiled like a
little co~ffee-colored angel and wanted
there and then to give me his best
salaam. OF course 1 made him lie down
again, but he blurted out his gratitude
for preservation so vigorously that he
came near fainting again.
next day his father, Hassan. one of
Gordon'S servants, came to see him.
The two had a long talk, and finally
Hassan announced that for his sons
sake he had decided to leave the Gen
eral and go back to his cobbler's stall
in the bazaar. Ibrahim-for the lad
whom 1 had helped to rescue was the
same one now sitting before you
oon recovered, thanks to his native,
tough constitution. He left my hut,
absolutely refusing to touch any of
the money which l offered him.
Protector Of the poor he said in
his quaint, grandiloquent Eastern way,
you have saved your servants life.
Did not the mou once repay the lion
that had been his ~benefactor? Lo,
l am the mouse, effendi; and you are
the lion. Perhaps some day l may re-
pay you. Salaam, friend.' Then he
backed out of my hut, and 1 saw him
not for many days.
II.
zone evening, while hurrying through
the bazaar on my way to Gen. Gordon's
quarters, a boy sprang out of a cob
bler's stall and handed me a tiny bun
dle-Slinninp away into fhe darkness