"Him and Me--Same Father!"
Every detail of a man's bearing is watched carefully in that
land. Every action has its value. The etiquette of the desert is
more strict, and more dangerous to neglect, than that of palaces,
although it is simpler and more to the point, being based on the
instinct of self-preservation.
The Arabs who approached us, having ridden straight into a trap
for all they knew, for they had expected friends and found
strangers, were even more than usually observant of formality.
They were fierce, fine-looking fellows, possessed of that dignity
that only warfare with the desert breeds, and they saluted Grim
with the punctilio of men who know the meaning of a fight to him
who doubtless understands it too. A very different matter, that,
to raising your Stetson on Broadway, with two cops on the corner
and the Stars and Stripes floating from the hotel roof. They eyed
Grim the while in the same sort of way that men who might be
charged with trespass look at the game warden, waiting for him to
speak first.
_"Allah ysabbak bilkhair!"_ he rolled out at last.
_"Allah y'a fik, ya Ali Higg!"_ they answered one after the other.
And then the oldest of them--a black-bearded stalwart with
extremely aquiline nose and dark-brown eyes that fairly gleamed
from under the linen head-dress, took on himself the role
of spokesman.
"O Ali Higg! May Allah give you peace!"
"And to you peace!" Grim answered.
I could not see Grim's face, of course, since I stood behind
him, but I did not detect the least movement of surprise or
nervousness. He stood as if he were used to being called by
that name, but the rest of us did not dare look at one another.
Once across that railway-line we were in the real Ali Higg's
preserves. It occurred to me at the moment as vastly safer to
pose as the U.S. President in Washington.
Still, Grim had not actually accepted the situation yet. I
held my breath, trying to remember to look like a product of
Lahore University.
"We were on our way to El-Maan, O Ali Higg, not knowing that your
honor had a hand in this affair."
"Since when is a lion not called a lion?" demanded Grim. "Who
gave thee leave to name me?"
"Pardon, O Lion of Petra! But the woman yonder, boasting with
proper pride that she is Your Honor's wife, bade us approach and
pay respect."
On my left I heard Narayan Singh muttering obscenities through
set teeth. On the right old Ali Baba wore a twinkle in a wicked
eye; the rest of his face was as emotionless as the face of the
desert; but when an old man is amused not even the crow's-feet
can do less than advertise the fact.
"A woman's tongue is like a camel bell," said Grim. "It clatters
unceasingly, and none can silence without choking it. But art
thou a woman?"
"Pardon, O Lion of Petra!"
There followed a long pause. When men meet in the desert it is
only those from the West who are in any hurry to betray their
business. There being an infinity of time, that man is a liar who
proclaims a shortage of it.
"Will the sun not rise tomorrow?" asks the East.
Grim stood like a statue; and, judging by my own feelings, who
had nothing at all to do but look on, I should say that was a
test of strength.
"Last week the train was punctual at El-Maan--three hours after
sunrise," said the spokesman at last.
On lines where there is only one train a week it is not unusual
for its arrival to be the chief social event on the country-side,
but that hardly seemed to me to account for the way those five
men had been driving their camels. However, as Grim knew no more
of their business than the rest of us, and needed desperately to
find out, he was careful to ask no questions.
No desert responds to the inquisitive folk who camp on its edge
and demand to be told; but it will tell you all it knows if you
keep quiet and govern yourself in accordance with its moods. The
men who live in the desert are of the same pattern--fierce, hot,
cold, intolerant, cruel, secretive, given to covering their
tracks, and yet not without oases that are better than much fine
gold to the man who knows how to find them. They enjoy a proverb
better than some other men like promises.
"Allah marks the flight of birds. Shall He not decree a train's
journey?" said Grim.
_"Inshallah,_ Lion of Petra! The train will come, when that is
written, and that which is written shall befall. It is said
there are sons of corruption on the train, who bear much wealth
with them.
"It were a pity to leave all the looting to those who got to
El-Maan soonest. They who slay will claim the booty.
"Or does Your Honor intend to arrive afterward and claim a share,
leaving the labor to those who seek labor? In that case we crave
permission to join Your Honor's party. It may be we can help
enforce Your Honor's just demands, and be recompensed accordingly?"
_"Wallahi!"_ Grim answered after a long pause. "Who sets himself
to plunder trains without my leave? Have I been such short time
in Petra that men doubt who rules here? Have I not said the train
shall pass El-Maan and come thus far? Who dares challenge me? Do
I wait here for nothing? Shall I be satisfied with a string of
empty cars?"
The Arab turned and conferred for a moment with his four friends.
They shook their heads.
"O Lord of the Desert," he said after a minute, "none has heard
of this decree. Your Honor's messenger may have failed or have
fallen into bad hands on the way. Word has not come that you
reserve this train for your own profit. There will be fifty
men at El-Maan now waiting to slay certain passengers and
plunder others."
Grim had evidently made up his mind and had set full sail on the
course indicated. I confess I shuddered at the prospect; but I
never saw a man look more pleased than Ali Baba, and Narayan
Singh's face betrayed militant admiration. Nor have I ever heard
such a streak of fulminous bad language as Grim swore then,
calling earth and all its elements to witness the brimstone anger
of a robber chief.
"Go ye," he thundered, "and tell those sons of swine that I say
the train shall pass to this point. And as to what happens
thereafter that is my affair. Bid any and all who chose to
dispute my word to look first to their wives and goods. I
have spoken."
The five men fell back a pace in consternation, no doubt
partly affected for the sake of flattery; but they were quite
obviously disconcerted.
_"Wallahi!_ If we go on such an errand who shall save our lives?
Who are we to come between wolves and their prey?"
"Say ye are my messengers," retorted Grim. "Let any touch a
messenger of mine who dares."
"But they will not believe us."
"That is their affair. It is Allah's way to make blind those who
it is written are to be destroyed."
"Nay, Lion of Petra, give a man to go with us--one whom they will
know and recognize. Then all shall be well."
Have I ever said that Grim is a genius? He can take longer
chances in a crisis with a more unerring aim than any man I ever
knew. Surely he took one then.
"Nay," he laughed. "I will send them a woman. Let us see who will
dare gainsay the woman."
That was simply supreme genius. It even pleased Narayan Singh,
since the tables were turned on Ayisha. The only reason she could
possibly have had for telling these men that Grim was Ali Higg
was to score off him, either by capturing him for herself, or in
the alternative by ruining him for rejecting her advances. It was
not clear yet which of the two she hoped to accomplish; perhaps,
little savage that she was, she would have been content with
either alternative and had simply chosen to force the issue.
At any rate Grim had passed the buck back to her. He sent me over
to the rock to fetch her, and I found her smiling serenely, like
the Sphinx, only with more than a modicum of added mischief.
"Woman, the Lion of Petra summons you," said I.
She laughed at that as if the world were at her feet--got up, and
stretched herself, and yawned like a lazy cat that sees the milk
being set down in a saucer--straightened her dress, and nodded
knowingly to her four men. She had evidently reached an
understanding with them.
"I hasten to do my lord's bidding," she answered, and followed
me back.
It calls for all your presence of mind to remember to walk in
front of a woman who is addressed as often as not as princess;
but if I had walked behind her they would have suspected me at
once of being no true Moslem.
I returned and stood behind Grim, and she stood in front of him,
so that I was able to see her face. It was as good as a show to
see her swallow back surprise and wonder at him open-eyed, as he
played the part she had foisted on him and loaded her with
the responsibility.
"Go with these men, Ayisha, and tell those swine at El-Maan that
I say the train shall pass unharmed as far as this point.
Moreover, say that none may trespass. What shall take place here
is my affair. The range of my rifle is the measure of the line
across which none may come.
"Stay with them, Ayisha, until the train leaves El-Maan. Then you
may leave your camel and return hither on the train. That is
my order."
She was bluffed. And she recognized it with a sort of dog-like
glance of admiration. We had all her baggage, for one thing, and
it represented more wealth than any Bedouin woman would let
go willingly.
Now if she were to reverse what she had said, and refuse to
advertise Grim as Ali Higg, these five men and probably others
would surely denounce her to her real husband. She had no choice.
But she was sharp-witted, and made the most of the situation
even so.
"Shall I go alone, my lord? Alone with these strangers?"
"Take two of your servants."
But what she wanted to make sure of was that Grim might not
decamp with her baggage and leave her to face the consequences.
It seems you can fall in love in the desert without putting too
much faith in masculine nature.
"Nay, give me two men I can trust. Give me that and that one."
She selected old Ali Baba and me; and it was a shrewd choice, for
unless Grim was a more than usually yellow-minded rascal he was
surely not going to leave the captain of his gang behind. And no
doubt she supposed I was valuable to Grim because of the
friendly, confidential way in which he always treated me. In
other words, she proposed to have two first-class hostages.
Grim gave her three. He sent Ali Baba, me, and Mujrim, and
mounted her on the Bishareen dromedary, that men might know she
was one whom her lord delighted to honor. She tried to get a
chance to whisper to him, but he was too alert and acted exactly
as if he had known her all his life, needing no explanations
or assurances.
So off we nine rode beside the railway track, she leading, since
she was chief emissary, and the last I saw of Grim for a few
hours he was squatting in the circle of remaining men, talking to
them as calmly as if nothing had happened.
Well, there was nothing for me to do but ride forward and watch
points. I was a hostage without responsibility.
If Ayisha should chose to turn on us and hand me over to the
crowd at El-Maan I believed I would have wit enough to denounce
her in return; and it might be that as a Darwaish I could claim
immunity. Failing that, I found myself able to hope with a really
acute enthusiasm that my shrift at the crowd's hands might be
short. I did not want to be crucified, or pulled in pieces by
camels; but if mine was to be the casting vote, of the two the
camels had it.
There were other points to be considered. I had a rifle slung
behind me, and two bandoliers. However, it was highly unlikely I
would have a chance to use the rifle, which is an awkward weapon
at close quarters when surrounded.
But hidden under my coat I had two repeating-pistols and a knife.
Since a man can't prevent himself from making plans when there is
nothing else to think about, I made up my mind finally in case of
trouble to let them take the rifle and the knife; they might then
suppose me to be disarmed. After that, if the trouble should be
due to Ayisha's treason, I would execute her, and shoot myself in
the head with the same pistol rather than submit to torture.
At the end of the first mile I drew alongside Ali Baba and passed
him my second pistol. It did not seem any of my business to
advise him what to do with it beyond hiding it under his clothes.
The old rascal's eyes glittered as his hand closed on it, and
it seemed to me he understood; and so he did, but not what
I intended.
I never got the pistol back. He understood that a fool and his
repeater are soon parted. When I asked him for it afterward he
vowed he had lost it, and called his son Mujrim in addition to
Allah and Mohammed and all the saints to witness that he spoke
virgin truth, and, moreover, that he never lied, and would rather
die ten times over than play a trick on me. I have heard since
that he has become a very good shot with a repeating-pistol, but
has difficulty in stealing suitable ammunition.
Ayisha wasted no breath on conversation on the way, but whipped
her camel to its utmost speed after the first mile, so that we
had our work cut out to keep up with her. It is aggravating to
ride a big beast and try in vain to overtake a little one; but
she had been born to the game, and there wasn't a man in the
party who could have won a race against her, whichever of the
animals she rode; for the camel knows quicker than a horse
whether his rider understands the art or not. And art it is, as
surely as painting or music--art that can be tediously learned in
a degree, but must be born in you if you are ever to excel at it.
The desert was all red sand now and dreary beyond human power to
imagine. The clouds of dust we kicked up followed us, and even
the cloths we kept across our mouths and nostrils did not keep it
out. You felt like a mummy riding a race in hell, and how the
camels managed to breathe I can't guess. The sun on our right
hand was just at the angle where it struck your eyes under
the _kuffiyi._
But I was the only one who seemed at all distressed by any of
those inconveniences; the others accepted them as in the natural
order of things, and my camel, realizing how I felt, galloped
last in the worst of the dust.
El-Maan itself was a picture of green trees above a mud wall; but
we did not visit it, for the station, with its hideous red
water-tanks, was a mile and a half to the eastward of the
place--a miserable, bleak, unpainted iron roof and buildings,
with a place alongside that had once been a Greek hotel.
At present it looked like a camel-mart; but there were dozens of
horses there too, gaudily turned out like the camels with red
worsted trimmings on saddles and bridles. And as for the fifty
men our five new acquaintances had spoken of, there were a
hundred and fifty if one, all herded in groups, each with
a rifle over his arm or slung across his shoulder. Their talk
ceased as we rode along the track, and those who were on the
platform--about half of them--eyed Ayisha with as much curiosity
as a Bedouin taken by surprise ever permits himself to betray.
She did not give them much time for reflection, and wasted none
whatever on conciliation, but affronted them from camel-back,
having learned that method, no doubt, from her rightful lord and
master. It was obvious from the first that they all knew her
by sight.
_"Wallahi!_ Good meat for the crows ye will all be presently! Has
the Lion of Petra lost his teeth that jackals hunt ahead of him?
Did the men of Dat Ras profit by coming between him and his prey?
Go, look at Rat Das and count the splinters of men's bones! So
shall your bones lie--ye who tempt the wrath of Ali Higg!"
She rode along the line, showing her little teeth like pomegranate
seeds in a sneer that would have made a passport clerk take notice;
and her voice was raised to a shrill, harpy scream that rasped
under the iron roof, so that none could have pretended he did
not hear.
"The Lion claims this train! The Lion of Petra lies in wait for
it at a place of his own choosing! Who dares forestall him? Who
dares slay one passenger, or loot one truck? Who dares? Stand
out, whoever dares, that I may take his name back to the
Lion of Petra!"
Nobody did stand out. They all herded closer together, as if in
fear that any one left on the edge of the crowd might be assumed
to challenge her authority. Yet they looked capable of plundering
a city, that company of stately cutthroats. Perhaps some of them
had seen what actually happened when Ali Higg raided Dat Ras.
Certainly they came from scattered settlements, on which Ali Higg
could take detailed vengeance whenever it suited him.
"Ye know me! I wait here for the train. I shall ride on it to
where the Lion of Petra waits. Who dares interfere with me or
follow? Let him name himself! Who dares?"
Her savagery fed itself on threats, and increased as she felt
herself grow mistress of the situation. Partly the primitive love
of power, partly the animal instinct to subject and oppress--pride
on top of that, and something of her sex, too, glorying in
giving orders to the self-styled sterner members--drove her
to increasing frenzy.
And it was not fear alone that impressed the crowd and impelled
it to obedience, for those highland Bedouins are, after all, too
practical for that. We were but nine all told, to their seven or
eight score, and they might have enforced the logic of that
first, and left the threatened consequences for afterward, but
for the appeal of the spectacular.
It bewildered them to be harangued confidently by a woman--they
who were used to watching women carry loads. There was something
revolutionary about it that took their breath away, and swept
their own determination into limbo.
As always, the men in the background, who felt they could avoid
recognition, were the only ones who ventured to raise objection.
One or two of them started to laugh, that being the best answer
all the world over to any threat, and if the laugh had spread
that would likely have been the end of us. I had unslung my rifle
and held it in full view resting on my thigh, being minded to
look as murderous as possible, but she stole all my thunder by
suddenly snatching the rifle away and drawing back its bolt to
cock the spring with that almost effortless adroitness that comes
of long use.
"Who laughs at the Lion of Petra's threat?" she screamed, raising
herself in the saddle to survey the crowd. "Who laughs? He shall
die by the hand of a woman! Who laughs, I say?"
But nobody wanted to die by a woman's hand; and nobody chose to
slay the woman, because of the certainty of vengeance dealt by an
expert in terrorism. I know I didn't doubt she would have used
the rifle, and I don't suppose they did. If she couldn't be
laughed out of countenance the only alternative was bloodshed,
and none dared show fight.
Old Ali Baba worked his camel closer, and, because an Arab must
boast at every opportunity, began to whisper in my ear.
_"Wallahi!_ Was I not wise? It was I who told her if she wanted
our Jimgrim she should tell the world she is his wife and he the
veritable Ali Higg! It takes an old man's tongue to guide the
cleverest woman!"
The train screamed then in the distance, and a Syrian station
agent in tattered khaki uniform went through the wholly
unnecessary process of letting down a signal. We got off the
track and rode our camels round on to the platform. The crowd
gave way before us, and Ayisha thrust herself this and that way
among them, breaking up groups, striking me over the wrist with
the stick she had for flogging the camel because I tried to
regain the rifle.
By the time the rusty, creaking, groaning rattletrap of a train
drew up there was not an element of cohesion left in the crowd.
She knew too much to drive them away to where they might have
regained something of determination, but let them stand there
under her eye where they could see in herself the ruthless symbol
of Ali Higg's ruthlessness. And not even the sight of the
frightened passengers, in a panic because of tales that had been
told them up the line, could restore their plunder-lust.
As a matter of fact that was a romantic little mixed train when
you come to think of it. The Arab engine-driver, piloting his
charge through no-man's land, where the bones of former train
crews lay bleaching, simply because he was an engine-driver and
that was his job; the freight in locked steel cars consigned by
optimists who hoped it might reach its destination; the four
guards armed with worn-out rifles that they did not dare use; the
four passenger-cars with their window-glass all shot away; the
half-dozen Arab artisans carried along for makeshift repairs en
route; and the more than brave--the too-fatalist-to-care-much
passengers wondering which of their number had an enemy at every
halting-place; and along with that the formalism--the observance
of conventions such as blowing the whistle and pulling down the
signal, on a track that carried one train one way once a week; it
made you feel like taking off your hat to it all, reminding me in
a vague way of those Roman legionaries who kept up the semblance
of their civilization after the power of Rome had waned.
I rode over beside the engine-driver and warned him to pull out
before trouble started. But he had to take in water first. And he
seemed to be an expert in symptoms of lawlessness. Leaning his
grimy head and shoulders out of the cab, he looked the crowd
over, spat, and showed his yellow teeth in a grin that vaguely
reminded me of Grim's good-humored smile.
_"Mafish!"_ he remarked, summing up the situation in two
syllables. "Nothing doing!"
I would have given, and would give now, most of what I own for
that man's ability to pass such curt, comprehensive judgment
without reservation, equivocation, or hesitation. I rather
suspect that it can only be learned by sticking to your job when
the rest of the world has been fooled into thinking it is making
history out of talk and treason.
There was nothing whatever but water for the train to wait for.
Nobody had business at El-Maan, for the simply sufficient reason
that you can't do business where governments don't function,
where all want everything for nothing, and whoever could pay won't.
The engine-driver's grimier assistant swung the water-spout
clear and climbed back over the cab, cursing the view, crowds,
coal-dust, prospect--everything. He meant it too. When he said he
wished the devil might pitch me into hell and roast me forever he
wasn't exaggerating. But I got off my camel and boarded the
engine nevertheless. Ayisha had handed over her mount to Ali Baba
and entered the caboose, ignoring the protests of the uniformed
conductor who, having not much faith in fortune, did not care
whom he offended. But he might as well have insulted a camel as
Ayisha, for all he would have gained by it.
My friend the engine-driver blew the whistle; somebody on the
platform tooted a silly little horn; a signal descended in the
near distance and we started just as I caught sight of Mujrim
coming to take my camel.
Then it occurred to some bright genius that even if they might
not loot the train there was no embargo on rejoicing; and there
was only one way to do that. What they saw fit to rejoice about I
don't know, but one shot rang in the air, and a second later
fifty bullets pierced the dinning iron roof.
That made such a lovely noise and so scared the passengers that
they could not resist repeating it, and by the time we had
hauled abreast of the distance-signal there was not much of
the roof left.
I saw Ali Baba and Mujrim take advantage of the excitement to
start back with the camels; and two minutes later about twenty
men decided to follow them at a safe distance. The rest had begun
to scatter before the train was out of sight, and I never
again saw one of the five gentry who had introduced us to the
whole proceedings.
Then my friend the engine-driver found time to be a little curious.
"What'n hell?" he asked, in the _lingua franca_ that all Indians
are supposed to understand.
So I answered him in the mother argot at a venture, and he bit.
"There's a man down the line a piece who'll blow your train to
hell," said I, "unless you pull up when he flags you."
"Son of a gun, eh?"
"Sure bet!"
"Where you learn English?"
"States," said I. "You been there too?"
"Sure pop! Goin' back some time."
"Not if you don't stop her when you get the hint, you won't. That
guy down there ahead means business."
I don't think he would have dared try to run the gauntlet in any
case, for the best the engine could do with that load behind it
was a wheezy twenty miles an hour, and the track was so out of
repair that even that speed wasn't safe. I was willing to bet
Grim hadn't lifted a rail or placed any obstruction in the way,
but the driver had no means of knowing that.
"Son of a gun, eh?" he repeated. "What in 'ell's 'e want?"
"Nothing, if you pay attention to him. All he hankers for is
humoring. He wants to talk."
"Uh! What in 'ell's a matter with him?"
"Nothing, but he'll put a crimp in your machinery unless you stay
and chin with him."
"I give him dry steam. He'll run like the devil."
"Don't you believe it. He's wise. Better humor him."
"Shucks! I shoot him. I shot lots o' men."
"No need to shoot," said I. "This is love stuff. He's got a lady
in the last car."
"Oh, gal on the train, eh? All right. You climb back along the
cars an' kick her off soon as you see him."
"Gosh! I'd sooner kick a nest of hornets!"
"You her brother?"
"Not so's you'd notice it."
"What then?"
"She's got my gun. Barring that we're not real close related."
"Uh! Those damned Bedouin fellers can't shoot for nuts. Let 'em
fire away. I take a chance."
"Ever hear of Ali Higg?" I asked him.
He turned his head from peering down the blistering hot track,
wiped the sweat from his face and hands with a filthy rag, and
looked at me keenly.
"Why? You know him?"
"Yes. I asked if you do."
"Son of a gun! Him and me--same father!"
"You mean he's your brother?"
He nodded.
"He's the man you've got to pull up for."
"His gal on the train?"
"Sure thing."
He resumed his vigil, leaning over the side of the engine with
one hand on the throttle-lever.
"All right," he said. "I stop for him. Son of a gun! If he bust
my train I kill the sucker!"
I never posed as much of a diplomatist, but it seemed wise to me
in the circumstances not to offer any further information or ask
questions. But I was curious. It was possible that Ali Higg's
brother had been given the task of running that train for the
reason that no lesser luminary would have one chance in a
thousand of reaching the destination.
I never found out whether my guess was right or not, and never
left off rating that engine-driver in any case as one of the
world's heroes. I've a notion there is a book that might be
written about him and his train.
A polished black dot in the distance soon increased into the
flattened egg-shaped rock, and then we saw Grim standing on the
track with all his men.
That is the safest place to stop a train from, because you avoid
a broadside from the car-windows. True to his word the driver
came to a standstill, and Grim came up to speak with him just as
I jumped off. I waited, expecting to see a contretemps.
"Ya Ali Higg! You fool!" said the driver. "You would kill your
own brother? You let me go!"
"Hah! You recognize me, then?" said Grim, coolly enough on
the surface.
But his poker mask was off. In that land of polygamy and
deportations it is frequent enough that one brother does not know
the other by sight; but it must be disconcerting, all the same,
to have a supposititious brother sprung on you. He gave a
perceptible start, as he had not done when first addressed as Ali
Higg that day.
_"Mashallah!"_ swore the driver. "I would know thine evil face
with the meat stripped off it! Nevertheless, thou and I are
brothers and this is my train. So let me go!"
Grim watched Ayisha jump out of the caboose with my rifle in her
hand, and turn to take aim at the open door, through which the
conductor's voice came croaking blasphemy.
"All right," he said. "Since thou and I are brothers, go thy way!
_Allah ysallmak!"_
The driver did not wait for a second hint, but shoved the lever
over so hard that the wheels spun and the whole train came within
an ace of bucking off the track. And before the caboose had
passed us Ayisha was alongside Grim abusing him for not having
broken the locks off the steel freight-cars.
"I am a robber's wife!" she said, stamping her foot indignantly.
"What sort of robber are you that let such loot pass free?"
"Shall I rob my mother's son?" Grim asked her. "God forbid!"
Then he turned to me, wondering.
"Can you beat it?" he said.