For Love of a Bedouin Maid. Le Voleur
last, after crawling along in the boiling sun for two hours, they reached one of the stopping places indicated by their guide. There was a small pool of brackish water and there were a number of rocks standing out of the sand nine feet or more, behind which they could shelter themselves from the sun. Here St. Just called a halt. The men dismounted and tethered their horses; then gave them food and water. Afterwards they attended to their own wants and ate and drank. Referring to the water, one of the veterans, with the recollection of the luxuries of sunny Italy before his mind, remarked that one must march through the desert under a burning sun for hours before one would drink from such a hole as that before them; a pool that, in ordinary circumstances, one would not even put one's feet into.
Their inner man refreshed, they rested for a short time, and the Arabs and a few of the French began to smoke. St. Just was among these, for he had picked up this, at that time, uncommon habit from some Gipsies he had come across in Italy.
After an hour's repose, early in the afternoon the little company resumed its march; it was but a repetition of the morning's tramp; more heat, more flies, more sand, with thirst that seemed intensified, rather than appeased, by drinking the tepid, brackish water from the soldiers' water bottles.
By way of contrast, when the sun set, cold cutting winds sprang up that pierced them through.
It was late and quite dark when the party came in sight of the so-called village—a collection of mud-huts—which was to form their resting place for the night.
The advance guard under Dessaix had recently passed through the place, for everywhere there were signs of the presence of the French; but of inhabitants there were none. Worse still, half the huts were dismantled. Many portions of them had been torn away for fire-wood; but one was found after a careful search, large enough to shelter the whole party, with some crowding.
One man was posted as a sentry outside, and relieved every two hours. His duties were not only to give notice of the approach of enemies, but also to keep an eye on the Arab guides, who remained outside and who St. Just felt were not to be trusted.
The night passed without adventure or alarm, and the rest of the men in the hut was unbroken, so that they rose in the early morn in excellent spirits and with bodies refreshed. While the sky was still clothed in its gray mantle, and the sun had scarce given signs of his approach, St. Just and his escort recommenced their march, leaving the young subaltern, Garraud, and his convoy party to make their further way alone.
On the afternoon of the same day, they overtook General Dessaix at Beda. It was fortunate they had started so early as they did; for, otherwise, they would have been overwhelmed in a terrific sandstorm, which spent itself behind them and which they escaped by only one hour.
On handing in his despatches to Dessaix, St. Just received from him a sorry report of his command. Short as had been their stay in the country, the men were always murmuring; the heat, the sand, the flies, the scarcity and badness of the water had made them so discontented that the General had the utmost difficulty in keeping them in hand. They were mutinous, unruly, continually complaining of their lost luxuries. Even the officers complained. After a few days' rest, St. Just set out to return to Buonaparte, who, with the main body of the army, was to have left Alexandria on the 6th. Being anxious to join them with all speed, St. Just decided to travel all night. After marching for some hours and when darkness was setting in, St. Just, to his alarm, was informed by an Arab scout he had sent ahead, but who now rode back, that a large body of desert horsemen was advancing in their direction somewhat to the right of them. This was most unwelcome news. To wheel round and make an effort to escape, St. Just felt would be useless. Their only chance seemed to be to halt and wait until the enemy were close upon them; then to make a dash for it and try to cut their way through, and thus, aided by the darkness, to get clear away.
With this view, St. Just drew up his men as close together as they could stand. This mode of formation surprised the Arab guides, it being the custom of their countrymen to fight in a crescent-shaped wedge, a mode of formation Buonaparte found a strong one, when cavalry is massed in successive crescents one behind another.
Breathless, silent and motionless, the little troop remained drawn up, their ears on the alert for the first sounds of the approaching horsemen. Soon the tread of horses' hoofs, muffled by the sand, was heard, and the jangling of bridles and accoutrements. Nearer and nearer came the sounds. St. Just had given his men orders to make for the left, so as, so far as possible, to skirt the enemy, rather than meet them face to face; they were not to seek encounters, and only cut down those who barred their way; the main thing they were to keep before them was that they were to gallop for all that they were worth.
On came the Arabs. They had not yet discovered the French. A few seconds passed; then there was a shout, and the desert horsemen put their horses to the gallop and bore down upon the Frenchmen. Instantly St. Just gave the order, and from its scabbard flashed every sword; spurs were dug into the horses' sides, and they went off at the charge, meeting the fringe only of their opponents.
This was St. Just's first experience of a cavalry skirmish, his sole experience of warfare having been gained in an infantry regiment during the Italian campaign. But his horse was an old stager and used to the business; and he communicated his excitement to his rider, who felt himself borne madly onward with the others, without seeing which way he was going. There was a crash of opposing forces, a mêlée of Frenchmen and swarthy Arabs, all slashing, stabbing and hacking at each other, and parrying the blows dealt at them, as well as the dimness of the light permitted; and then St. Just felt his horse pause in its career and begin to stagger; at once he knew it had been badly wounded. In a moment he saw what had happened. An Arab, facing him alongside, so close that St. Just could have touched him, had come at him full tilt with his lance pointed dead at him. But, either by miscalculation of aim, or by an involuntary swerving on the part of one of the horses, the weapon had missed St. Just and buried itself deep in the flank of his charger, the point even protruding through the buttock. Quick as thought, St. Just realized that, if once he were unhorsed in the darkness and in the midst of all this crowd, the life would speedily be trampled out of him. Possessed of great muscular strength, to which his perilous position gave added energy, he raised himself in his stirrups, flashed his sword high in the air, then brought it down with all his force upon the turbaned skull of his opponent. The blade was sharp and trusty and it was wielded by a powerful arm. It struck the Arab's head a little to the left of his crown, and, cutting its way in a slanting direction, came out below the right ear, slicing off more than half the skull. But the force of the blow was not yet spent. Continuing its course, St. Just's sabre entered his adversary's right shoulder and, in a twinkling, had lopped off the arm that held the spear whose point and a good portion of its shaft were still fixed in the French officer's horse. Then, feeling his charger sinking beneath him, St. Just drew his feet from the stirrups and threw himself on the Arab's horse, the collision sending the lifeless body of the rider to the ground. With the man's warm blood gushing over him, he realized something of the horrors of war. But this was no time for sentiment. Settling his feet in the stirrups of the strange horse, at the moment he saw his own poor steed sink to the ground, St. Just seized the reins of his new mount, wheeled him round with the powerful Arab bit, struck his spurs into his sides, and, finding no one immediately opposing him, dashed off at full gallop; whither he knew not, except that he was going west of his proper route.
St. Just traversed a few miles on the same course, and then, satisfied that he was not being pursued, he reined in his recently appropriated horse and dismounted, intending to remain where he was, until day should break. The docile creature seemed to know what was expected of it, and, with very little trouble, St. Just got it to lie down; then, passing his arm through the reins, he laid himself down beside the animal, which thus helped to keep him warm. The young officer tried his hardest to keep his eyes open; but, spite of his efforts, after a time, he dropped asleep. He was exhausted with the heat and his exertions.
How long he had slept he did not know, but when he awoke, feeling cold and stiff, the day was breaking, for in the East he noticed a faint gleam of light.
At first he was puzzled to account for his whereabouts. But, when thoroughly awakened and in full possession of his senses, the occurrences of the previous night came back to him, and he remembered he had almost miraculously broken away from a horde of Bedouins, after cutting down the rider of the