RIFLE AGAINST ARROW
What happened now came swiftly and with little warning. Bassalor
Danek, once the die was cast, ceded his authority to Gela. The
traditional leadership of the Wusun was the Kha Khan's in time of
war. Now, for the first time in generations they were to resist the
authority of their gaolers.
Gray remembers clearly that Bassalor Danek bade them a solemn
farewell standing in his white robe at the foot of the daïs. Then
the Gur-Khan, who was impressed with the importance of the occasion,
raised his hand with dignity.
"By the talisman at your throat, O Kha Rakcha," he said, "do not
forget the Wusun--if it is the decree of fate that you should pass
from here in safety."
"She will not forget," promised Gray. He watched the aged figure
depart for the tower where Bassalor Danek intended to watch what was
to happen through the Eyes-of-Long-Sight.
Gela assumed command impetuously. Gray watched him muster the
_tumani_. The young men were afire with anticipation of a struggle.
The long pent up enmity against their captors was about to be
released. From the dwellings of Sungan came the lament of the women.
It shrilled in the night air--the world-old plaint of women before
battle.
Timur lingered with them. The three were surrounded by the hunters
who had strung their bows and unsheathed their heavy swords.
There was only a half-light in the upper hall of the council-temple
where they now stood. It reflected faintly upon the red sandstone of
the walls, with the faded, painted figures of an older age looking
down upon them.
Gutturally, the warriors spoke under their breath to each other,
laughing much, although not loudly. Some, however, leaned upon their
bows silently, their eyes blank. This note of tensity was familiar
to the American. Gray had watched men go forward under fire with the
same forced merriment, the same semi-stupor.
But the hunters were contented. Young men, for the most part, their
lean faces hardened and lined by exposure to the sun, their bloodshot
eyes narrow, their lips thin and cracked--they smiled more frequently
than not. A savage pleasure lurked in their eyes. They were to lift
their swords against the oppressors of the Wusun. Gray counted the
swords. They were all too few.
Wearied of confinement, they were, for a brief moment, to strike into
the desert as free men. Perhaps. For they might never win beyond
the wall.
They shuffled their yak-skin boots, breathing heavily. The air in
the gallery became close and hot with scent of soiled leather. Mary
stood close to Gray, her shoulder against his. She had changed to
her torn dress and crumpled jacket. Her glance was on him.
"Robert!"
"Yes--Mary." He looked down, his face alight at hearing her speak
his name.
"You were frowning. Will it be so very bad?" Her slender body
pressed against his so that he could feel the pulse of her heart.
"Then you mustn't leave me--this time."
"No."
He wanted to take her in his arms, to call her his wife. But he
checked the swift impulse sternly. He had no right. How was he to
know that she was yearning for just this comfort?
Gela waved his arm, and there was a shuffling of many feet, moving
forward.
"Robert!"
Her eyes, shining with faith in him, drew nearer and held his own.
His arm drew her closer to him, savagely. Perhaps he hurt her. But
she did not protest.
Blindly, he pressed his mouth against the fragrance of her hair.
Clumsily, with dry lips, he kissed her throat and cheek, marveling at
the pulse that beat so strongly where he touched.
Two swift, slender arms closed around his neck. The girl sighed,
quivering, uttering a soft, happy murmur. Gray, unbelieving, tried
to look into her face, but tender, moist lips touched his in a quick
caress. Her eyes were half closed, and she was strangely pale.
"Mary!" he whispered, and again: "Mary."
She was smiling now, the gray eyes glad.
Gela cast an appraising eye over the assemblage and gave a command.
The _tumani_ pressed forward to the stairs that led to the entrances
above ground.
Gray felt Mary's hand seek his. A cool breath of air brushed their
hot faces. He saw the glitter of torches, lighted by the _tumani_.
Then they passed out into the night.
The sands of Sungan were vacant except for the group of warriors
under Gela. A slight breeze stirred among the aloes and tamarisks,
lifting tiny spirals of dust under their feet and causing the torches
to flicker.
Then the torches were dashed into the sand, and the warrior groups
became shadowy forms, moving against the deeper shadow of the towers.
Overhead the moon was cold and bright. Its radiance showed the dark
figures of Chinese on the wall, and glittered on their guns. At the
gate in the wall in front of them was a group of priests. Wu Fang
Chien was not to be seen.
Between the _tumani_ and the wall was a level stretch of sand perhaps
two hundred yards in length.
"See!" chattered the old Timur, "the message of Bassalor Danek has
been sent. They are waiting."
"It would not be well to rush the wall," cautioned Gray quickly,
sizing up the situation. "They have guns----"
"If I had a bow!" Timur's reluctance had vanished under the growing
excitement. "Ho! The hunters will hunt new prey."
One of the priests cried out something that Gray did not understand.
Gela answered defiantly, and the _tumani_ rushed forward, carrying
Gray and Mary with them.
A shot sounded from the wall, greeted by a defiant shout from the
Wusun. A scattering volley followed. The guards--Chinese
irregulars, Dungans, bandits, followers of the priests,
what-not--were poor marksmen. But the range was close. And the
Wusun, ignorant of tactics against gunfire, were bunched close.
Gray saw several stumble and fall in the sand. More shots. The
torches wavered. Timur stooped and picked up a bow and arrow from
one of the fallen.
The priests had vanished from the gate. This had been closed. But
not before Gray sighted groups of the lepers running about in
confusion. Some seemed to be armed.
The Wusun wavered under the fire, as undisciplined men are bound to
do. Gray forced the girl to crouch in the sand with Timur while he
ran forward to Gela. The Kha Khan was shouting angrily at his
followers.
"The passages!" Gray seized Gela's arm. "Here, you will be killed.
Go down to the passages."
Gela, the hot light of battle in his scarred face, stared at him
unheedingly. But Timur, who was not to be left behind, limped
forward and echoed Gray's words.
Comprehension dawned on the Kha Khan, and his eyes narrowed shrewdly.
He shouted to his men. The _tumani_ began to run back, leaving dark
bodies prone in the sand.
Gray made his way to the temple with Mary. A shout of triumph
sounded from the wall. The firing did not cease. The blood-lust had
been aroused in the men on the wall, who had found the killing of the
poorly armed Wusun an easy matter.
But Gray, seeing the set faces around him, realized that the _tumani_
were not going to give up the struggle. It was an age-old feud--the
struggle of the oppressed Central Asians against their Mongol captors.
He and the girl were swept along at Gela's side like leaves in a
swift current. Down into the temple the Wusun pressed, silent this
time. They streamed into the underground corridors, led by men with
torches. The shouting over-ground grew fainter.
Once Gray stumbled over a body. It was a woman, bleeding from a
death wound in the throat. The priests had been here, and warfare in
the Gobi reckons not of sex.
The flutter of a yellow robe appeared in the corridor in front of
them. A bow twanged, and Gray saw an arrow appear between the
shoulders of the fleeing priest. A knife that the Buddhist held
clattered to the floor.
The _tumani_ shouted and pressed forward. They were under the wall
now, and the passage began to rise. Gray saw that it was the same
that led to the well.
A sharp command from Gela silenced the Wusun. They ran out into the
well and up the steps, savagely intent on their purpose.
They emerged into confusion. Gray saw that other Wusun were running
out from the adjoining passages, driving the priests before them.
The Chinese on the wall had turned. Taken by surprise, they were
firing hastily. Their foes were scattered now, and the fight became
a hand-to-hand affair.
One by one the torches dropped to the sand. Swords flashed in the
moonlight. Gray saw some of the men of the leper pack, led by
priests. These were met with arrows of the _tumani_ and driven back.
They fled easily.
Forced to hand-grips, the Chinese at the wall wavered.
"_Aie!_" cried Timur. "The fight goes well. I am young again." He
pointed exultantly at the leaping forms of the hunters.
The girl walked quietly at Gray's side. The American picked up an
empty musket and went forward. It was a poor weapon, but it served.
Gela was in advance of his followers, who had cleared the wall now
and were pacing forward, seeking out the groups of Chinese.
By now the soldiers were running back through the outskirts of the
city.
Gray could see the leper pack mingling with the shadows among the
sand dunes. Occasionally, there was a shrill cry as the Wusun hunted
out a yellow-robed Buddhist. The Chinese were fleeing in earnest.
The only light now came from the moon. It was a battle of shadows,
wherein dim forms leaped and struck with bared knives, peering at
each other's face.
"_Aie!_" echoed the old chieftain, who was leaning on the shoulder of
a _tumani_, "this is the way our fathers drove their foes before
them. It is a goodly sight."
He hobbled on, refusing to be left behind. Gray drew a deep breath,
surveying the scene with experienced eye. The smoldering anger of
the Wusun had cleared a temporary passage. "We are outside the city,
Mary," he said.
"It is not over yet," she responded quickly. "See--there are lights
ahead, to the right."
Gela had seen the same thing. He gathered together the hunters that
remained about him and advanced cautiously. Rounding some dunes,
they came full on the lights.
It was the camp of the Chinese guards. Camels and horses were
tethered among some make-shift tents. Lanterns flickered as coolies
sought to assemble the beasts.
A group of men were facing them standing uneasily in front of the
tents. Gray saw the bulky figure and mandarin hat of Wu Fang Chien.
The light from a lantern struck across his broad face, savage now
with baffled anger. He held a rifle.