IVA.
It soon became evident to us that Iva knew this country intimately. She
abandoned the clearly outlined entrance to the pass through which we had
come on our way from Koser, and led us around to the less promising
cliffs at the left. An hour’s ride brought us to a ravine we had not
before noticed, and silently we entered this and rode among boulders and
loose stones until the steep rocky sides closed in on us and we could
proceed no farther. Then we dismounted and picketed our camels. Taking
only our rifles and ammunition with us, we followed the Bega girl up a
dizzy and difficult path that one would have judged, at first sight, it
was impossible to scale. But Iva, mounting light as an antelope, seemed
sure of her way, and where she went we could not well hesitate to
follow.
The perilous climb brought us to the top of the cliff—a rocky ridge,
narrow and uneven, with peaks here and there that shot their points
still farther toward the sky. Presently the girl paused and looked over
the edge, and dropped lightly into a pocket-like hollow of the inner
cliff—a place that reminded me of an upper box in a theatre.
Here, quite protected from observation, we could look down upon the
ravine in which Gege-Merak and his men were encamped. Just beyond the
pass we could see the two tall warriors who were guarding its entrance,
so we had approached the ravine from the rear.
The cunning old chief had chosen his retreat well. On all sides were
smooth walls of black breccia, where not even a mountain goat could have
found a foothold. Only at the entrance was there any cleft that allowed
one to enter or leave the place. The camels stood grouped at one end,
and the four panniers containing the treasure of the priests of Karnak
had been piled upon a rocky table and were guarded by one of
Gege-Merak’s own men. The ravine was perhaps eighty feet wide by some
three hundred feet long, and several of the low, spreading Bedouin tents
had been pitched just underneath the hollow wherein we lay.
The chief and all his company, except the guards I have mentioned, must
have been congregated under these tents when we arrived at our point of
observation, and for more than an hour we lay there patiently attentive
without seeing any evidence of life in the camp below. We supposed that
Iva’s adventure was unknown to them, shut in as they were, and doubtless
the chief believed her even then to be speeding toward his village to
bring back reinforcements of fighting men.
But Gege-Merak had no intention of remaining idle in the meantime, as we
were soon to observe. For at last the Bega began to stream out of the
chief’s tent, and among them came Van Dorn, his arms bound close to his
sides and a big warrior now leading, now pushing him along.
The Professor seemed weak and unnerved, for he stumbled among the loose
stones that littered the way and would have fallen more than once had
not his guard steadied him. His head was bare and his clothing torn in
many places. Doubtless the fellow had struggled desperately before he
had finally been secured.
They led Van Dorn to the end of the ravine opposite us and placed him
with his back against the rock. The Bega and the Bisharin from Laketa,
all animated and talking eagerly in their native tongue, formed a group
fifty yards away. Prominent amongst them we could see the dwarfed,
withered form of the aged chief, and the stalwart, towering figure of
Ketti.
Gege-Merak gave an order and a man stepped forward and leveled his rifle
at the Professor. Before he could fire, Van Dorn shrieked in terror and
dropped to the ground. They raised him again, cuffing and shaking him
until once more he stood upright. Yet he trembled visibly. Again the
Bega warrior raised his rifle, but, answering the victim’s pitiful
screams, Ketti now sprang before the man and wrenched away his weapon,
protesting so loudly that his voice reached even to our high nest on the
cliff against the deed the chief had ordered.
Gege-Merak fairly danced with rage at this defiance. He gave a command
which at first his men seemed reluctant to execute, but finally two of
them approached Ketti, seized him and drew him away, binding his arms to
his sides. Iva was frantic at this act, and we had to warn her several
times to be quiet or we should surely be discovered by those below.
It was while I was busy soothing Iva that I heard a shot and a cry of
agony, and turned in time to see Van Dorn fall flat upon his face. Poor
fellow, the treasure had cost him his life. However treacherous he had
been in his dealings with Lovelace, with Abdul Hashim and with us, his
final alliance with old Gege-Merak had brought him into contact with a
nature as unscrupulous as his own, and the barbaric chief had evened up
all scores by robbing the man of his ill-gotten wealth and his life at
once.
But it seemed that Gege-Merak’s vengeance was not yet complete, and we
could see from the tense and strained attitudes of the warriors that Van
Dorn’s death was but an incident in the drama. If, indeed, the chief had
cause to hate Ketti, that young man’s rash interference with his
commands had given Gege-Merak the chance, perhaps long desired, to
punish him. It may be he lived in fear of the handsome fellow who was
destined to succeed him at his death, for Ketti’s popularity with the
tribe was indisputable. Anyway, his orders, now given in a firm, loud
voice, seemed instantly to seal the fate of Iva’s lover.
Bound and helpless as he was, the young man was led to the spot where
Van Dorn had stood and set with his back against the wall of rock. But
there was no craven spirit in the victim this time. Proudly the warrior
stood facing his chief, his pose erect, his dark eyes calmly regarding
his destroyer and a slight smile of scorn curling his lips.
Gege-Merak shouted his commands, but not a tribesman moved to obey.
Softly Iva reached out her hand and grasped my repeating rifle, and I
let her take it. She knelt before me, her brown face rigid, her eyes
dark with horror, and rested the barrel on the ledge of rock before her.
I saw Uncle Naboth and Ned glance at each other significantly; but they
made no move to interfere.
Again and again the chief shouted his orders, waving his arms
imperiously and stamping his foot in rage; but the Bega stood stolid and
unyielding, and their Bisharin allies shrank back and huddled in a
frightened group in the rear.
Gege-Merak himself snatched a rifle from a warrior’s hand and swinging
around leveled it full at Ketti. At the same instant Iva’s rifle cracked
beside me and I saw the aged chief totter, drop his weapon and sink
slowly to the earth. A shout went up from the assembled group below, and
with one impulse they turned their eyes toward us.
And now the girl sprang upon the dizzy ledge and stood where all might
see her figure clearly outlined against the sky. High above her head she
held the rifle that had slain her wicked grandsire, and as the Bega
recognized her they shouted again—joyfully this time—and waved their
hands to her in full approval of her act.
I own I was horrified for a moment, remembering the ties of blood
between Iva and Gege-Merak; but she was a wild, half-civilized child of
the desert, and to her simple mind her lover’s life must be preserved at
any cost.
All was eager animation in the ravine. Ketti’s bonds were quickly
removed, and the big fellow waved his thanks to the sweetheart whose
courage had saved him.
“Come,” said Iva, calmly, as she stepped down to a safer position beside
us. “There are only friends in Ketti’s tribe now; let us go to him.”