KETTI PROVES A FRIEND.
As hastily as might be we groped our way down the dangerous pathway to
the ground below the cliffs. There we regained our camels and made for
the desert, around the spur of the mountain, and so up the regular trail
to the mouth of the ravine.
Ketti was eagerly awaiting us, and as she saw him Iva quickly rode
forward and threw herself from her camel to crouch with bowed head
before the new chief.
Coming to her side, Ketti raised her gently and, while we watched with
curiosity from one side and the assembled Bega watched from the other,
the young warrior gravely placed one hand beneath Iva’s chin, palm
upward, and the other hand upon her head, palm down.
This, we learned afterward, was the betrothal ceremony of the Bega. When
a young man chose his bride he went to her and took her chin and head
between his palms, and thus made claim to her for all time. None other
dared afterward make advances to the girl, under penalty of incurring
her affianced youth’s anger. Indeed, I was told this was frequently the
only ceremony performed at all, whether of betrothal or marriage, by
many of the tribes, although there was a form of native wedding that
included various and lengthy rites and involved much feasting and
dancing.
The girl, it seems to me, has not a fair chance in this custom, for she
is not allowed to refuse a man who so salutes her. It is true a brother
or father may challenge a presumptuous warrior and fight him to the
death, but the girl herself is helpless.
I am sure Ketti and Iva had an elaborate wedding ceremony thereafter;
but that is not a part of my story, from which I fear I have digressed.
Feeling quite safe with the friendly Ketti, we had no hesitation in
following him and his band into the ravine, where we dismounted and went
at once to examine the body of Van Dorn. He was quite dead, having been
shot through the heart, and Ned Britton lifted him and bore him to one
of the low tents, of which Ketti willingly gave us the use. Gege-Merak’s
body still lay upon its face where it had fallen, and to my surprise
none of the natives touched it or even so much as glanced toward it, so
far as I could see.
In the tent, Ned and one of the sailors searched Van Dorn’s clothing and
removed from it the leathern belt, his rings and watch and a small
note-book. Last they found, sewn into the lining of his well-worn coat,
a package, rather bulky, though flat, covered with goat-skin, tied and
sewn securely and carefully sealed. These things I took possession of,
and Uncle Naboth and I went to see Ketti to get permission to bury the
body.
We found the young chief seated on a rock beside Iva, with whom he was
conversing most earnestly. He smiled at us as we came up, and said:
“We have made changes, Effendi. I am now chief.”
“So I understand, Ketti,” I answered, “and I’m glad of it. We are
friends with the Bega now, are we not?”
“We are friends,” he announced, gravely. “Gege-Merak was bad, and had no
love for you. He loved treasure better, and killed the Red-beard to get
it all. But Ketti does not want his brothers’ wealth. It is enough that
you have paid the Bega to guide and protect you.”
“Do you mean that you will return to us the treasure?” I asked, striving
to conceal my astonishment.
“It is not Ketti’s. It was not Gege-Merak’s. It is yours,” he said,
simply. “My tribe shall not rob, nor shall they slay their friends.
While I am chief, the Bega who call me master must be honest and good,
and keep the laws the great Khedive has made. Is it not so, Iva?”
“It is the only way for our tribe to prosper and grow in strength,” she
answered, soberly. “Under our great and good Chief Ketti we will be rich
and strong, and our father the Khedive will call us good children.”
“You shall say, when you return to Koser,” continued Ketti, regarding us
earnestly, “that my tribe was true and honest, and touched not one jewel
of your treasure. You will say that we guided you straight and protected
you from enemies and thieves and earned your money well. Is it so,
Effendi?”
“We will say that, Ketti,” I replied.
“But there are also things which you will not say, Effendi,” he
continued, with a note of anxiety in his voice.
“And what are they, my friend?”
“You will not say my people killed the Red-beard; for you do not know
what killed him. You will not say where he is gone, for that you do not
know. Is not the land broad for men to wander in? And if any asks you
about Gege-Merak you will be sorrowful and tell how he died in the
desert, being old and feeble, and you will say that Ketti succeeded him
as chief of the tribe. Then you will mount the great ship that awaits
you and sail away.”
I began to understand. Ketti intended to make a bargain with us. He
feared the consequences of the murder of Van Dorn and did not want the
fact that Iva had shot her grandfather known. If we would promise to be
discreet in these matters he would restore to us the treasure, which he
considered another element of danger to him, not realizing that we were
slyly removing it in defiance of the Khedive’s orders. Had he known
that—but, fortunately, he did not know it.
“It shall be as you say, Chief Ketti,” I returned; “for we wish you and
Iva only happiness, and to tell some things might cause you trouble. If
your father the Khedive asks us of your service, we will say you are a
good chief, and faithful.”
That pleased him greatly.
“The treasure is untouched,” said he. “Not a seal is broken. It awaits
your orders, Effendi.”
Willingly he gave us permission to bury the Professor among the rocks,
which we did during the afternoon. When we returned to the ravine from
this labor we were surprised to notice that in our absence the natives
had gathered several heaps of stones, which were piled in the form of a
wide circle around Gege-Merak’s body. But the body itself had not been
disturbed, and the Bega were now lounging in various parts of the ravine
and conversing together in their customary indifferent manner.
Ketti came to us with the information that we should start at dawn next
morning for Koser, which he hoped to reach in two days’ fast riding.
“But what will you do with Gege-Merak?” I inquired.
“His ceremony of entombment will be held this evening, Effendi. Your
people will be welcome to watch the solemn rites,” he added.
We had supper and awaited with curiosity to witness the proposed
ceremony; but the natives were in no hurry, and showed no activity until
the stars were bright in the sky.
At a word from Ketti, every Bega and Bisharin sprang up and stood in a
circle around the dead chief’s body. Beginning a low chant they now
commenced to move slowly around Gege-Merak, keeping step to the chant
and bending in lithe, rhythmic attitudes characteristic of the Eastern
dances. And ever the chorus grew louder and faster until it became a
roar and at last a wild shout. Also the excitement of the warriors
increased until presently they were dancing with frenzied leaps.
Suddenly, as they circled round just beside the piles of rock, each man
seized a stone from the nearest heap and hurled it at the dead body.
From the next pile he grabbed another stone, until the missiles were
raining upon Gege-Merak’s prostrate form from every direction. As the
dance reached its climax of animation and the shower of rock continued,
the old chief’s body began to disappear from sight, until he was covered
up entirely and entombed in a mound of stone several feet in height.
It was a shocking sight, and seemed to us extremely brutal; but Iva, who
stood by our side, calmly declared it was the custom of her people, and
that a chief was highly honored who was thus buried by his people where
he fell or expired. The chant, she told us, was a relation of his
virtues and his mighty deeds on earth.
If a chief dies or is killed on the desert, his people cast sand upon
him, in like manner, and afterward weight the mound with rocks; and, as
his body is never moved from the spot where he expired, they take down
his tent or house after the funeral and set up the habitation in another
place, leaving his burial mound stationary.
The wild chant rang in my ears long after the grim ceremony was
completed and the camp had become quiet for the night. We Americans
slept uneasily through the next few hours and at dawn awoke to eat a
hasty breakfast and mount our camels.
The panniers were replaced on the two extra animals by Ned and Bryonia,
who now took charge of the treasure. We were pleased to observe the
truth of Ketti’s statement that the wax upon the buckles of the panniers
had not been tampered with and was still intact.
The Bisharin left us here and went away to their village, and without
incident we traversed the trail back to Koser, which we reached, weary
but exultant, at the close of the second day.
My father and a number of sailors, apprised by a swift messenger of our
coming, were at the wooden dock to meet us, and we unstrapped the four
treasure-laden panniers from the saddles of the camels and sent them on
board by a boat commanded by Ned in person.
Captain Steel produced the hundred and eighty pounds due to Ketti for
his services, according to the contract we had made with Gege-Merak, and
I asked that an extra gold piece be given to each of the Bega warriors,
which was willingly agreed to since we had been successful in our quest.
It made the simple fellows very happy indeed.
After consulting with Uncle Naboth and gaining his consent, I opened the
Professor’s leathern belt and took from it the prettiest jewel it
contained, a diadem of yellow gold set with clusters of pearls and
sapphires. This I presented to Iva as a wedding present from her
American friends, and the beautiful girl was proud indeed of the gift,
as well she might be. Once, perhaps, it had adorned the brow of some
famous Egyptian queen, and though it might now appear incongruous upon
the person of a poor Bega woman, we were so grateful to Iva for the
service she had rendered us that we thought it none too good to express
our appreciation.
We parted from Ketti and his people in the mostly friendly manner, and
he returned that night to his village in the desert.
It was not so easy to get rid of the bearded Arab sheik of Koser, who
was curious to know what we had brought from Luxor and what adventures
we had met on the way. It was strange, he added, that the Bega had
brought us safe back again; it was not like that clever, evil old
Gege-Merak. Fortunately no one had told him of the old chief’s death, or
he would have been still more curious.
But we refused to satisfy the fellow’s desire to gossip and kept our
mouths fast shut when he was around. Also we refused his polite offers
of entertainment and to his disgust hoisted sail early the next morning
and head up the gulf toward Port Ibrahim.
Now that we had the treasure safe aboard, every moment we delayed was
fraught with danger, and the doubtful friendship of this sheik of Koser
was no longer of any value to us.