Mahomet
having been much frightened by the nautical effort he had been
forced to make, was in an exceedingly bad temper upon the arrival
on the opposite bank, and having at length succeeded in climbing
up the steep ascent, in shoes that were about four sizes too
large for him, he arrived on the lofty plateau of our camp, and
doubtless would like ourselves have been charmed with the view of
the noble river rushing between the cliffs of white sandstone,
had he only seen Achmet his fond relative with his effects on the
opposite bank. Mahomet strained his eyes, but the blank was no
optical delusion; neither Achmet nor his effects were there. The
Arabs, who hated the unfortunate Mahomet for his general
overbearing conduct, now comforted him with the suggestion that
Achmet had run away, and that his only chance was to re-cross the
river and give chase. Mahomet would not have ventured upon
another voyage to the other side and back again, for the world,
and as to giving chase in boots (highlows) four sizes too big,
and without strings, that would have been as absurd as to employ
a donkey to catch a horse. Mahomet could do nothing but rush
frantically to the very edge of the cliff, and scream and
gesticulate to a crowd of Arab women who had passed the day
beneath the shady trees by the Faky's grave, watching our passage
of the Atbara.
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