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~Adventure in the Desert, and Murder of a Sheikh.~

I was awakened for a few minutes, as early as three o'clock on the
following morning, by the sound of many voices in loud and earnest
conversation, amongst which I recognised that of Sheikh Suleiman; but as
noisy conversations at such early hours are by no means uncommon with
these restless spirits of the wilderness, I gave no heed to it, and
composed myself for sleep again, intending to rise by about half after
four, in order to get a dip in the Red Sea, before resuming the march;
and this intention I fulfilled; but just while throwing on the few
clothes I had taken with me, I heard suddenly a loud strife of many
tongues bursting forth, not in our encampment, but in a small copse or
grove of palm trees, about two hundred yards distant. At once the
thought rushed upon my mind, that the Mezzeni had overtaken us, and were
meditating an attack, now that we were so near the place of their main
encampment. This was directly confirmed by the sound of a gun-shot in
the palm-grove, which was soon followed up by a second. I ran up towards
the encampment as rapidly as possible; and just as I reached it, another
shot rang awfully upon my ear. I found our party in a state of the
greatest consternation, and gathered closely together, gazing wildly
towards the grove. The first thing I learnt, was the harrowing fact,
that poor Suleiman had just been murdered by the Mezzeni! It was an
astounding announcement. To what would this desperate blow lead--here,
in the Desert? The prospect of further bloodshed was terrible. It would
have been insupportable, but for the influence of that inward calmness
which is the privilege of the children of God. We were braced up for the
worst, and stood gazing upon the scene, in full expectation that out of
a deep and deadly spirit of revenge, we should be immediately
overpowered by the enemy, and held entirely at their mercy--as any shew
of defence against so many as had now come down upon us, would have been
utterly futile, and might have led to the destruction of us all. How
wild and desolate this awful theatre of death appeared, while, with the
sound of gun-shots still vibrating in our ears, we thought of Suleiman
writhing in his death-throes, and anxiously watched the movements of the
murderers. We were motionless--almost breathless. Each man among us
gazed silently upon his fellow. Our suspense was not of gr