CHAPTER XXI

A swarm of mounted Arabs, shadows in the sun-haze, was careering

towards them, leaving a dust-cloud trailing on the distant plain.

Their lance-points glittered. They were nearing rapidly. Iskender

stood gaping, awestruck at the sight, when a whip-lash scored his face.

"You infernal scoundrel!" snarled the Emîr through his clenched teeth.

"So this is why you've brought me all this way. They made it worth

your while, no doubt. I might have guessed. That missionary warned me

plain enough."

Iskender nursed his wounded face, and writhed with pain. For the

moment he could neither hear nor think nor see.

The wild horsemen galloped in a herd to within a hundred yards of the

travellers, when they fanned out neatly and surrounded them. The Frank

had plucked out his revolver.

"Don't do that, sir, for God-sake!" Iskender shrieked. "You make them

cross."

Still with hands pressed to his wounded face he blessed the assailants

loudly, and asked how they did. For answer they told him to make his

companion drop the pistol; which, when the order was conveyed to him,

the Amir did sullenly. The Arabs then rode near, and stared in the

faces of their captives.

They were a ragged-looking troop, clad every one in armour, were it but

of leather. Queer helmets showed beneath their dirty head-shawls, and

a few wore tattered coats of mail of high antiquity. Only their fierce

bold eyes, strong spears, and clean-limbed horses kept the laugh from

them. Their husky speech was full of words and phrases strange to

Iskender.

When all had satisfied their curiosity, the throng rode off, leaving a

sufficient guard to follow with the prisoners. Iskender learnt that

they were surprised to find so small a company. Having heard of the

approach of a great prince of the English, their chief expected to

receive a visit from his Highness, with supplication in due form for

leave to journey through his territory. When he learnt that the Emîr

had entered his realm without so much as a salâm aleykum, he resolved

to make the mannerless cub his guest by force. For this purpose he had

sent forth all his braves in war trim, supposing that the English chief

had power to match his insolence, only to surprise a train which a

blind man could have taken single-handed!

Bitterly did Iskender curse his own vain-glory which had led him to

boast at every village of his patron's greatness, and the absolute

power which he wielded in the land of his birth. He was separated now

from his dear one in the cavalcade, catching only an occasional glimpse

of his back, which had a sullen hunch. He forgot the pain of his own

face in fears for him.

At the end of an hour's slow riding, the barren waste gave place to

slopes of coarse grass, where a number of camels, sheep, and goats were

feeding peacefully. The camp of the Bedû appeared--a little town of

black tents in a hollow, from which shouts, neighs, and much barking of

dogs proceeded. Once there, Iskender lost sight of his Emîr, who, as

the prisoner of importance, was taken straight to the chief's tent. He

himself was left standing with Mahmûd among the tent ropes, in some

peril from the heels of tethered stallions. A smell of hairy beasts

defiled the air. Dark-skinned women and children came to stare at

them. The girls expressed compassion for Iskender's wounded face, and

cried shame on the man who had disfigured it, supposing him to be one

of their own people. The muleteer, a Muslim, made profession of his

faith, attesting the Unity of God and the Mission of Muhammad loudly,

in the evident persuasion that his hour had come.

Iskender wondered what his lord was undergoing, and then as the day

grew cooler, gave up thinking altogether, happy to lie down and rest.

The women told him he was free to walk about, but for long he felt no

call to use the privilege. At last, however, seeing his horse was

tethered close at hand, he went and took from the saddle-bags his book

and paint-box, and began to make a likeness of the scene; the women

gathered round and cried: "Ma sh' Allah!" They took the lines and

spots for magic writing, and gathered shyly round them, half expecting

apparitions.

He was in this employment when men came in haste and dragged him to the

chief's tent. He managed to stow the paint-box in his trousers, but

the book was lost.

"Allah have mercy on thee, O Iskender!" groaned Mahmûd, as he was led

away. "They have slain the khawâjah; now they come for thee. Well I

am a Muslim, and resign my cause to God!"

In the tabernacle of the chief, superior only in size to the rest of

the tents, the elders of the tribe were set in council, the Emîr before

them. At the moment of Iskender's entrance there was a puzzled look

upon each bearded face, directed towards the Frank in perfect courtesy.

The arrival of an interpreter was hailed with exclamations of relief.

Iskender, having made obeisance, was invited to take a place in the

circle. From the join of two camel's hair curtains screening an inner

tent, he fancied he could see bright eyes of women peeping.

"Is this the great Emîr, of whom report has reached us?" he was asked.

"And if so, how comes he to travel with so small a retinue?"

The Frank's eyes dwelt upon Iskender's face with an intensity of

distrust that neighboured actual hatred. He still believed his friend

in league with the marauders.

"It is true; he is an Emîr of the noblest, O my lords," Iskender

answered; "but, may it please your Honours, he has not that wealth to

which his rank entitles him. Indeed, for one in his position, he is

poor."

The chieftains of the Bedû nodded comprehension, for poor Emîrs were

not unknown among them. They murmured of compassion saying:

"May Allah make him very rich and powerful!"

But one objected:

"Why then does he travel? The rich among the Franks come hither for

adventure and to rest their stomachs after too much feasting; their

learned come to find out ancient ruins, and study the writings of the

idolaters which are found here and there among the rocks. But why

should this poor noble youth have wandered hither?"

"Aye, answer us that, O Nazarene! Why, why, and for what reason?" came

the chorus.

Iskender found himself at a loss, being loth to revive his lord's anger

by naming the valley of the gold in his hearing; he was looking up and

down in the vain search for inspiration, when the Emîr himself came

unexpectedly to his relief. With an ironical glance at the

interpreter, the Englishman mustered all his Arabic and, turning to a

sheykh who was his neighbour, asked:

"Is there a wady named Wady 'l Mulûk?"

"Wady 'l Mulûk!" cried all the elders in surprise; and then, in the

twinkling of an eye, their foreheads cleared from all bewilderment.

Wady 'l Mulûk! Ah to be sure! The vale in which lay scattered all the

treasure of the ancient kings. So that was what his Honour came to

seek!

Iskender was no less perplexed than was his lord by all this outcry,

when the chief of all the tribe leaned towards him, saying:

"I understand. He seeks the Valley of the Kings," and touched his

forehead meaningly. "May Allah heal him! The Lord forbid that we

should plunder such a one, or detain him beyond his pleasure. All such

are favoured of Allah! Be our guests from now."

And he gave his orders for a feast to be prepared.

All the old men fell to petting and caressing the Emîr, grieving to

think that one so young and comely was spoilt for the commerce of life

by a deranged intelligence. Iskender, too, they treated as a friend.

Their original intention, they confessed, had been to hold his Honour

up to ransom; but now they offered gifts instead of claiming them.

Iskender, the moment he could do so with politeness, went out and

searched the camp till he regained his sketch-book. Mahmûd, the

muleteer, called to him from the mouth of a tent where he was feasting

as the guest of a tall Bedawi. He proclaimed the safety of their lives

a miracle, attributable solely to the fact that he himself had not

ceased to assert the Unity of God from the moment he was taken captive

till men came and blessed him. All gave praise to Allah.

The Valley of the Kings · 第 21 / 32 章