The Way of the Spirit | Page 9

transversely to and fro across the face of the slide, all about him the
sand begins to flow like water, till at length it pours itself into the Nile
below and is swept away. More, as it flows it sings, a very wild song, a
moaning, melancholy noise that cannot be described on paper, which is
caused, they say, by the vibration of the mountain rocks beneath the
weight of the rolling sand. From time to time Rupert paused in his
descent and listened to this strange, thrilling sound until it died away
altogether, when wearying of the amusement, he scrambled down the
rest of the hill-side and reached the bank of the Nile.
Here his reflections were again broken in upon, this time by a woman.
Indeed he had seen her as he descended, and knew her at once for the
old gipsy who for the past year or two had lived in a hovel close by,
and earned, or appeared to earn her living by cultivating a strip of land
upon the borders of the Nile. As it chanced, Rupert had been able a
month or so before to secure repayment to her of the value of her little
crop which had been eaten up by the transport animals, and the

restoration of her milch goats that the soldiers had seized. From that
moment the old woman had been his devoted friend, and often he
would spend a pleasant hour in talking to her in her hut, or while she
laboured in her garden.
To look at, Bakhita, for so she was named, was a curious person, quite
distinct from the Egyptian and Soudanese women, being tall, thin, very
light-coloured for an Eastern, with well-cut features and a bush of
snow-white hair which hung down upon her shoulders. Indeed she was
so different from themselves that she was known as the Gipsy by all the
natives in the district, and consequently, of course, credited with
various magical powers and much secret knowledge--with truth in the
latter case.
Rupert greeted her in Arabic, which by now he spoke extraordinarily
well, and held out his hand for her to shake. She took it, and bending
down touched it with her lips.
"I was waiting for you, my father," she said.
"Supposing you call me 'your son,'" he answered, laughing, with a
glance at her white locks.
"Oh!" she replied, "some of us have fathers that are not of the flesh. I
am old, but perhaps your spirit is older than mine."
"All things are possible," said Rupert gravely. "But now, what is the
business?"
"I fear I am too late with my business," she answered. "I came to warn
you against the Sheik Ibrahim, who passed my hut a little while ago on
his way to visit you at your camp. But you have already seen him, have
you not?"
"Yes, Bakhita; but how do you know that?"
"Oh!" she replied evasively; "I heard his angry voice coming down the
wind from the top of yonder hill. I think that he was threatening and

cursing you."
Rupert nodded.
"I am sorry. I have known this man from childhood and his father
before him, for he has done much hurt to my people, and would do
more. That is why I live here; to watch him. He is a very evil man,
cruel and full of the spirit of revenge. Also, it would have been well to
speak him soft, for his tribe is strong and he may give trouble to the
Government. It is true, as he says, that the soldiers did handle him with
roughness, for one of them had grudges against him."
"What is said, is said," answered Rupert indifferently. "But tell me,
mother, how do you come to know so much--about many things?"
"I? Oh! I sit by the river and listen, and the river tells me its
tidings--tidings from the north, tidings from the south; the river tells me
all. Although you white men cannot hear it, that old river has a voice
for those whose ears are opened."
"And how about tidings from east and west where the river does not
run?" asked Rupert, smiling.
"Tidings from the east and west? Oh! thence and thither blow the winds,
and those whose eyes are opened, see more in them than dust. They
have their voices too, those old, old winds, and they tell me tales of the
kings of my people who are dead, and of the loves and wars of long
ago."
Rupert laughed outright.
"You are a very clever woman, mother," he said; "but be careful that
they don't arrest you as a Mahdist spy, for you won't be able to call the
Nile and the Campsine wind as witnesses."
"Ah! you laugh at me," she