"So. Now we're good for exactly twenty-two Kurds between us. If
we're pursued I propose to give those two young lovers a chance by
making every cartridge count from behind cover."
"They'd hear the shooting and--"
"Not if we drop far enough behind."
"They'd hear shooting and Will, at any rate, would ride back."
"He couldn't! He'd have to look after the girl and the column."
"All the same--Will's--"
"I know he is. Very well. I'll arrange it another way. You wait
behind here."
So I rode along slowly, and he spurred his horse to a trot. But
he did not hold the trot long. I could hear him objurgating, coaxing,
encouraging, explaining, and the shrill voices of women answering,
as he tried at one and the same time to pass the unfortunates in
the dark and to make them see the grim necessity for speed. Soon
I grew as busy as he, bullying litter-bearers and mothers burdened
with crying babies. In times of massacre and war, survivors are
not necessarily those who enjoyed the best of it. Nearly-drowned
men brought to life again would forego the process if the choice
were theirs, and there were nearly twenty women who would have preferred
death to that night's march. But I did not dare load my horse with
babies, since it would likely be needed before dawn for sterner work.
It was more than an hour before Fred loomed in sight again, standing
beside his horse in wait for me. He, too, had resisted the temptation
to relieve mothers of their living loads (not that they ever expected it).
"How did you manage?" I asked, for I could tell by his air that the
errand had been successful.
"I lied to him."
"Of course. What did you say?"
"Said if the straggling got bad you and I might fall a long way behind
and fire our pistols, so as to give the impression Kurds are in pursuit.
That would tickle up the rear-end to a run!"
"And he believed that?" Will knew as well as I Fred's not exactly
subtle way of maneuvering to get the post of greatest danger for himself.
"He'd have believed anything! He's head-, heart-and heels-over-end
in love with the girl, and she's as bad as he is. They're talking
political economy and international jurisprudence. When I reached
'em they'd just arrived at the conclusion that the United States
can save the world, maybe--maybe not, but nothing else can. I was
decidedly de trop. They're pretty to watch. No, he hasn't kissed
her yet--you could tell that even in the dark. It's my belief he
won't for a long time; America's way with women is beyond belief.
They're telling each other all they know, and like, and dislike,
and believe, and hope. It 'ud take a bullet to divide their destinies.
I delivered my message, and they were so devilish polite you'd think
I was the parson come to marry 'em. They'd forgotten my very existence.
When it dawned on 'em who I was they were so keen to be rid of me
they'd have agreed to anything at all. So it was easy."
"Good."
"No, it's bad. Will's a friend of mine. I hate to see him squandered
on a woman. However, I did better than that."
"How so?"
As I spoke there loomed out of the darkness just ahead of us eight
men surrounding something on the track, their rifles sticking up
above their shoulders.
"I've found eight men with rifles all alike that fit the ammunition
in the boxes. It's stolen Turkish government ammunition, by the
way. The rifles come from the same source. The point is that a
man caught with a stolen government rifle and ammunition in his
possession would be tortured. Incidentally the men seem game.
Therefore, if we have to fight a rear-guard action we can reasonably
count on them. Haide!" he called to the eight men, and they picked
up the case of cartridges, and resumed the march just ahead of us.
Fred lit his pipe contentedly, as he always is contented when he
can make satisfactory arrangements to sacrifice himself unselfishly
and pretend to himself he is a cynic. Whether because the armed
guard of their own people put new courage in them, or because rifles
at their rear made them more afraid, the stragglers gave less trouble
for the next few hours. Perhaps they were growing more used to the
march, and some of them were numb with anxiety, while not so weary
yet that feet would not carry them forward.
Somewhere in advance a man with a high tenor voice began to sing
a wild folk-song, of the sort that is common to all countries whose
heritage is hope unstrangled. He and others like him with love and
music in their brave hearts sang the tortured column through its
night of agony, keeping alive faint hope that hell must have an end.
Dawn broke sweet and calm. For it makes no matter if a nation writhes
in agony, or man wreaks hate on man, the wind and the sky still whisper
and smile; and the scent of wild flowers is not canceled by the
stench of tired humanity.
Fred knocked his pipe out and rode to the top of shoulder of rock
beside the track, beckoning to me to follow. We could see our column,
astonishingly long drawn, winding like a line of ants in and out
and over, following the leaders in a dream because there seemed nothing
else to do or dream about. Once I thought I caught sight of Will
on his horse, passing between trees, but I was not sure. Fred turned
his horse about and looked in the direction we had come from. Presently,
he nudged me.
"That smoke might be the castle we were in last night. See--it's
red underneath. What'll you bet me Kurds don't show up in pursuit
before the day's an hour old?"
That was nothing to bet about, and that kind of dawn is not the hour
for roseate optimism.
"If they come," said I, "I hope I don't live to see what they'll
do to the women."
Fred met my eyes and laughed.
"That's all right," he said. "You ride on. This rock commands the
track. I'll follow later when pursuit's called off."
"Ride on yourself!" I answered, and he chuckled as he lighted his
pipe again.
One of the men had a kerosene can filled with odds and ends of personal
belongings. I turned them out in a hollow of the rock, and sent
him to fill the can with drinking water at a spring. Then Fred and
I chose stations, and Fred went to vast pains lecturing every one
of us on how to keep cover. We had nothing to eat, and therefore
no notion of putting up anything but a short fight. Our best point
was the surprise that unexpected, organized resistance would be likely
to produce on plundering Kurds.
It was pleasant enough where we lay, and reminded both of us of far
less strenuous days. The little animals that are always curious
to the point of their undoing came out and investigated our tracks
as soon as the noise of the stragglers had ceased. The Armenians
took no notice of the wild life; persecuted people seldom do, having
their own hard case too much in mind; but Fred knew the name of
nearly every bird and animal that showed itself, and even ceased
smoking as his interest increased.
"Ever go fishing as a boy?" he asked.
"Didn't I!"
"Get up before daylight and escape from the house by the back way--"
"Stealing bread and cheese from the pantry on the way out--"
"And stopping where the grass was long near the watering place to
dig worms--"
"And unchain the dog with frantic efforts to keep him from barking--"
"Yes, but the rascal always would do it--bark and wake everybody!
Lucky if nobody saw you as you slipped through the gate into the fields!"
"Ah! But then what a time the dog had--it was almost as good fun
as the fishing to watch him scamper. And how hungry he got--and
he ate more than his share of the bread and cheese, so that you'd
have had to go home early because of the aching void if it hadn't
been for the cottage where they gave a fellow milk out of a brown dish."
"Yumm! Didn't that country milk taste good! Snff--snff--they were
mornings just like this at home when I went fishing. Cool and sweet
and full of scent. Snff--snff!"
We sat still behind the ledge and let the air and scenery revive
kind memories. The only noise was what our horses made cropping
the grass in a hollow behind us, for the Armenians were well content
to ruminate. Most likely they would have fallen asleep if we had
not been there to keep an eye on them, for prolonged subjection to
too much fear is soporific, so that tortured poor wretches sleep
on the tightened rack.
I was very nearly asleep myself, having had practically none of it
for two nights in succession, and had taken to watching the horses
to keep my mind busy, when the movement of my horse's ears struck
me as peculiar. Presently he ceased grazing and raised his head.
I thought he was going to whinny, and turned to see Fred squinting
down his rifle at something that was not in the range of my vision.
"Here they come!" he whispered.
As he spoke a Kurd stepped out from between the trees, and we could
see that he had tied his horse to a branch in the gloom behind him.
He had the long sleeves reaching nearly to the ground peculiar to
his race, and the unmistakable sheeny nose and cruel lips. From
the rifle that he carried cavalierly over his shoulder hung a woman's
undergarment, with a dark stain on it that looked suspiciously like
blood. My horse whinnied then, and his beast answered. At that
he brought his rifle to the "ready" and nearly jumped out of his skin.
"I'm judge, jury, witness, prosecutor and executioner!" Fred whispered.
"That man's dose is death, and he dies unshriven!"
Then he fired, and Fred could not miss at that range if he tried.
The Kurd clapped a hand to his throat and fell backward, and one
of our Armenians ran before we could stop him to seize the tied horse,
and any other plunder. One of the things he brought back with him,
besides the horse and rifle and ammunition belt, was a woman's finger
with the ring not yet removed. He said he found it in the
cartridge pouch.
In proof that organized defense was the last thing they reckoned
on, nine more Kurds came galloping down the track pell-mell toward
the place where they had heard the solitary rifle-shot, doubtless
supposing their own man had come upon the quarry. We fired too fast,
for the Armenians were not drilled men, but we dropped two horses
and five Kurds, and the remaining four fled, with the riderless animals
stampeding in their wake.
"What next?"' said I, as Fred wiped out his rifle-barrel.
"They'll return in greater force. We'd better change ground. D'you
notice how this rock is covered by that other one a quarter of a
mile to the right? Higher ground, too, and the last place they'll
look--come on!"
The man with the water-can spilled it all, for the sake of his medley
of possessions, and I had to send him all the way back for more.
But we took up our new stand at last with the horses well hidden
and enough to drink to last the day out, and then had to wait half
an hour before any Kurds came back to the attack.
They came on the second time with infinite precaution, lurking among
the trees on the outskirts of the clearing and firing several random
shots at our old position in the hope of drawing our fire. Finally,
they emerged from the forest thirty strong and rushed our supposed
hiding-place at full gallop.
They were not even out of pistol range. Fred used the Mauser rifle
taken from the dead Kurd, and then we both emptied our pistols at
the fools, the Armenians meanwhile keeping up a savage independent
fire so ragged and rapid that it might have been the battle of Waterloo.
The Kurds never knew whether or not we were another party or the
first one. They never discovered whether our former post was deserted
or not. We never knew how many of them we hit, for after about a
dozen had tumbled out of the saddle the remainder galloped for their
lives. For minutes afterward we heard them crashing and pounding
away in the distance to find their friends.
Our loot consisted of two wounded prisoners and four good horses,
in addition to rifles and cartridges. We let the dead lie where
they were for a warning to other scoundrels, and we looked on while
our Armenians searched the bodies for anything likely to be of slightest
use. They found almost nothing originally Kurdish, but more Armenian
trinkets than would have stocked a traveling merchant's show-case,
including necklaces and earrings.
Fred took the two prisoners aside and in Persian, which every Kurd
can understand and speak after a fashion, offered them their choice
between telling the whole truth or being handed over to Armenians.
And as there isn't a bloody rascal in the world but suspects his
intended victims of worse hankerings than his own, they loosed their
tongues and told more than the truth, adding whatever they thought
likely to please Fred.
"They say there were only about fifty of them in this raiding party
to begin with, and several came to trouble before they met us. Seems
there are Armenians hidden here and there who are able to give an
account of themselves. Ten or twelve elected to stay near the castle
we were in last night. They've burned it, but they have some captured
women and propose to enjoy themselves. Shall we ride back and break
in on the party?"
He meant what he said, but it was out of the question. "The party
we've just trounced will give the alarm," I objected. "We'd only
ride into a trap. Besides, you've no proof these prisoners are not
lying to you."
"They say their raiding party is the only one within thirty miles.
They rode ahead of the regiments to get first picking."
"We're none of us fit for anything but food and sleep," said I, and
Fred had to concede the point.
Fortunately the food problem was solved for the moment by the Kurds,
who had a sort of cheese with them whose awful taste deprived one
of further appetite. We ate, and tied our two wounded prisoners
on one horse; and as we had nothing to treat their wounds with except
water they finished their trip in exquisite discomfort. Surprise
that we should attend to their wounds at all, added to their despondency
after they had time to consider what it meant. There was only one
burden to their lamentation:
"What are you going to do with us? We will tell what we know! We
will name names! We are your slaves! We kiss feet! Ask, and we
will answer!"
They thought they were being kept alive for torture, and we let them
keep on thinking it. Fred tied their horse to his own saddle and
towed them along, singing at the top of his lungs to keep the rest
of us awake; and for all his noise I fell asleep until he reached
for his concertina and, the humor of the situation dawning on him,
commenced a classic of his own composition, causing the morning to
re-echo with irreverence, and making all of us except the prisoners
aware of the fact that life is not to be taken seriously, even in
Armenia. The prisoners intuitively guessed that the song had reference
to ways and means they would rather have forgotten.
"Ow! My name it is 'orrible 'Enery 'Emms,
And I 'ails from a 'ell of a 'ole!
The things I 'ave thought an' the deeds I 'ave did
Are remarkable lawless an' better kep' hid,
So if Morgan you think of, an' Sharkey an' Kidd,
Forget 'em! To name such beginners as them's
An insult, so shivver my soul! Yow!
In every port o' the whole seven seas
I 'ave two or three wives on the rates,
For I'm free wi' my fancy an' fly wi' my picks,
And I've promised 'em plenty, an' given 'em nix,
But have left ev'ry one in a 'ell of a fix!
'Ooever said Bluebeard was brother to me's
Either jealous or misunderstates!
"Wow! For awful atrocity, murder an' theft,
For battery, arson and hate,
From breakin' the Sabbath to coveting cows,
An' false affidavits an' perjurin' vows,
I'm adept at whatever the law disallows,
And the gallowsmen gape at the noose that I left,
For I flit while the bally fools wait!"
Fred kept us awake all right. Like most of his original songs, that
one had sixty or seventy verses.
Chapter Twelve
"America's way with a woman is beyond belief!"