Day after day for a whole fortnight Gajere and I rode onward together,
passing through Temacin, El Hadjira, and the arid Chambaas region. Now
and then we halted at Arab villages in the oases, but the greater part
of our time was spent in the dry, waterless wilderness. He was an
intelligent fellow, full of anecdote and _bonhomie_, a splendid
horseman, and in every sense a typical Bedouin. Yet, somehow, I could
not get rid of a strange feeling of insecurity such as I had scarcely
ever before experienced.
These vague apprehensions of impending evil were increased by an
incident which occurred one night while we were sleeping under the
little lean-to awning which served as a tent. We had halted at a small
fertile oasis after we had been on our journey eight days, and under the
cool waving palms had stretched ourselves for the night. I suppose I
must have been asleep nearly two hours, my head pillowed upon the
saddle-bag containing the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, when suddenly I
was awakened by my companion stirring. In a moment I became filled with
suspicion, and with bated breath lay--determined not to betray my
watchfulness. Gajere at first sat up listening intently; then, as he
bent over and found my eyes closed and my breathing heavy and regular,
became apparently reassured. The little awning did not admit of one
standing upright, but my treacherous fellow-traveller, moving slowly and
noiselessly in order not to disturb me, bent once again to make certain
that I had no knowledge of things about me.
Those were anxious, exciting moments. With closed eyes I lay prostrate
and helpless, well knowing the futility of a struggle with that sinewy
son of the Desert, in whose grasp I should quickly be as helpless as a
child. I was unable to draw my revolver without attracting his
attention, and knew myself to be in a position of extreme peril.
Unaware of his designs, I breathed heavily, and waited. Seconds seemed
hours, for the terrible thought occurred to me that he was in league
with the sinister-looking thief, and his object was murder. I felt
assured that I was to fall the victim of a foul conspiracy.
At last he rose, and, with his eyes still fixed upon me, drew from his
sash his long curved knife with its carved handle. I shuddered. The
edge of the murderous weapon was keen as a razor. Muttering some
guttural malediction in Arabic, the exact purport of which I could not
catch, he placed the knife between his teeth and suddenly turned and
crept silently out upon his hands and knees, halting in front of the
tent, as if listening. Was he waiting the advent of his
fellow-conspirator before assassinating me? I strained my ears to catch
every sound. Among the dense tropical foliage there were many strange
noises; the distant cry of a jackal broke upon my ear, but I could
detect no sound of human voices. Again a noise sounded quite close to
me, and, stretching forth my hand, I grasped my revolver. The noise was
receding, and by slightly turning I could see in the dim half-light the
indistinct figure of Gajere creeping slowly away in the shadow as
stealthily as a beast of prey.
What could be his object? I wondered. That he meant murder was
apparent by the readiness in which he held his knife, and as I was the
only person besides himself in that lonely region, I confess I viewed
the situation with mingled alarm and dread.
Fully a quarter of an hour elapsed. The suspense was awful, for Gajere
had now crept away, and was lost in the wild undergrowth of hulfa and
aloes. Perhaps he had gone to give the signal to the scoundrel who had
followed me from Algiers! Feeling that my revolver was fully loaded, I
grasped it firmly, and lay on the alert in readiness to spring up and
defend myself.
The loneliness was appalling. Dismal howls came from the small pond
where wild animals were drinking, but in the gloom I could detect no
moving object, and began at last to think that my companion had deserted
me. At length, however, he returned as quietly as he had departed. I
expected to see a second dark form, but breathed more freely when I
reassured myself that he was still alone. His knife had been replaced
in its sheath, and after halting a few seconds, and holding his quick
ear towards the wind so as to catch every sound, he entered, and,
throwing himself down again beside me, was quickly asleep.
I scarcely closed my eyes during the remainder of that night, fearing
treachery, yet nothing further transpired to confirm my suspicions of
his intention to assassinate me, and his mysterious actions puzzled me
considerably.
One evening at sundown, when we had halted two days distant from El
Biodh, and we were eating our kousskouss together, I succeeded in
inducing him to become more communicative about himself.
"I was born and bred in the Desert," he said, in answer to my inquiries.
"The sand of the Areg was my cradle, and I have been a wanderer through
the Sahara ever since."
"Have you no fixed abode?" I asked.
"None; only my tent. We of the Kel-Ahamellen are no town-dwellers; the
Desert is our home, and in the oases we seek our rest. Sometimes our
caravans travel to El Golea or Touat, and at rare intervals even into
Morocco, but our men are always glad to leave the towns and return to
us. I, too, shall not be sorry to return to my wife and children, who
are encamped with our tribe at the well of Tadjemoult. Next moon--if
Allah willeth it--we shall set out on our yearly pilgrimage to Mount
Hikena, under the shadow of which is the holy tomb of Azaka n Akkar--to
whom may the Merciful give peace."
"I recollect," I said at length, determined if possible to learn
something of the man who had robbed me,--"I recollect that on the night
before we turned our faces from Tuggurt, whilst leaving the mosque, thou
wert in close conversation with a man. Who was he?"
"A stranger," he replied abruptly, glancing quickly at me with
suspicion.
"Not a stranger to me," I said meaningly. "I recognised his face."
"Thou knowest him?" he exclaimed, surprised. "Then thou art forewarned
to take precaution for thine own safety."
"Why?" I asked in alarm. "Surely thou hast not hidden from me thy
knowledge of some impending evil?"
"Thou art a Roumi, while I am a servant of the Prophet," he answered.
"Infidels are our enemies, and it is forbidden that we should warn our
foe of our plans for attack."
"Is there danger, then? Doth this man bear me malice for nought?"
"Know, O Roumi," he said solemnly, "thou art indeed in grave peril. I
should not tell thee, only the man who addressed me in the courtyard of
the House of Allah made an infamous proposition to me, and afterwards I
discovered that he was called Labakan, of the tribe of the Ennitra, and
one of the most renowned cut-throats of Hadj Absalam, the Terror of the
Desert."
"The Ennitra?" I cried. "And he is following me?"
The Arab slowly nodded, rolling his cigarette thoughtfully. "What
villainous proposal did he make to thee?" I demanded quickly.
"He offered me a bag of gold to assist in thy murder," my companion
replied hesitatingly.
"And thou hast refused--eh?"
"Though we of the Kel-Ahamellen may thieve and plunder, we do not stain
our hands with blood," he said proudly. "The men under the green banner
of Hadj Absalam have times without number attacked, murdered, and robbed
us, carrying off our women to their harems, and selling our children
into slavery beyond Lake Tsad. This man called Labakan, son of Omar,
who invited me to help him in his foul plot against thee, is the same
who has acted as leader on many of those murderous expeditions."
"But why should he be so desirous of killing me?" I asked. "He
explained that thou hadst on one occasion escaped from them after being
taken prisoner, and that, hidden in thy saddle-bag thou hast a treasure
of enormous value."
"Treasure? I have no treasure," I said. "A man doth not carry his
wealth with him when passing through the land of his enemies."
"Labakan said the treasure was neither gold, silver, nor precious
stones, but that thou hadst in thy possession something which belonged
to their tribe, and which they had solemnly sworn to regain, even though
the attempt might cost the lives of those who followed thee. In further
speech he told me that Hadj Absalam--the despot who ruleth his people
with a rod of iron, and whom may the Merciful doom to all the horrors of
Hawiyat--had ordered him to follow thee to the ends of the earth to
regain the lost treasure. If he succeeds, he is to obtain as a reward
the most beautiful houri of the Desert Pirate's harem, but if he doth
not accomplish his mission successfully within twelve moons, his head
will fall under the sword of the executioner."
"Did he tell thee of what this valuable treasure consists?"
"No. He only said that if lost to his people it could never be
replaced."
"And dost thou really think that this villain actually meaneth to obtain
by foul means the contents of my saddle-bags?" I asked, feeling
somewhat uncomfortable at this startling revelation.
"Alas! I do. Of this, the most unscrupulous caitiff of the Ennitra,
thou must beware. Take heed of thine own safety when we part. Never
relax thy vigilance while in the land of Al-Islam, and may the Merciful
One guard thee in thy perilous journey to Agadez."
"Is this man Labakan alone, or is there a conspiracy to murder me?" I
asked.
"I am afraid, from what he hath told me, there is a widespread plot to
compass thy death," he said. "Apparently thou hast incensed them
exceedingly by learning some strange secret which they desired should
never be divulged. As death closes the mouth, Hadj Absalam hath ordered
that thou shalt be slain. Under such circumstances I hardly think it
wise that thou shouldst venture alone through the Valley of Air."
"It is imperative," I answered; "I must not halt until I enter the gates
of Agadez. To me also the result of my mission is a matter of life--or
death."
"May thy treasure be preserved unto thee, and may Allah--the One
Merciful to whom be boundless praise--give thee strength to overcome all
thine enemies. May they be vanquished and be swept from the earth to
the burning land of Al Sahira like grains of sand before the sirocco,"
said he earnestly, hitching up his burnouse.
"I tender thee thanks for thy warning, Gajere," I said. "For thy action
thou wilt indeed receive the reward of the One Worthy of Praise, and
drink of the waters of Al Cawthar, which are sweeter than honey, whiter
than milk, and cooler than the snow."
"And thou wilt, I hope, believe some day that Allah is the One Lord of
the Three Worlds, and that Mohammed is his Prophet," he murmured
devoutly, looking at me with his deep-set eyes.
But I did not answer. I had no intention of entering upon a controversy
on religious subjects, but sat pondering deeply over the plot against
me, which evidently had for its object the recovery of the Crescent of
Glorious Wonders. His suspicions of approaching attack had caused him
to arise in the night, and, armed with his keen blade, reconnoitre for
the crafty assassin. He was, after all, my friend and protector. How,
I wondered, could Hadj Absalam know that the mysterious object was in my
possession? Surely Zoraida had not told him? Yet might he not in his
rage, after learning of the catastrophe his tribe had sustained by the
loss of the Wonderful Crescent, have taken up a scimitar and struck off
her hand?
The thought was horrible.
However fearless I might have been of the terrors of the Desert, I could
not close my eyes to the fact that this murderous ruffian Labakan was
going about offering as payment for my murder a bag of gold, and I knew
that ere long an attempt upon my life would most surely be made. Mine
was decidedly a most unenviable position, and when at El Biodh two days
later, I bade farewell to my faithful friend Gajere, the earnest
blessings he invoked upon me aroused within me an additionally
apprehensive feeling of insecurity.
This journey I had undertaken because of the passionate love I
entertained for Zoraida, but I could not forget the grave prophecy of
old Ali Ben Hafiz, when the Omen of the Camel's Hoof had been revealed.
Had he not told me that it was always fatal to love, and in the majority
of instances fatal to the lover?
Yet thoughts of Zoraida trusting in me gave me renewed courage, and I
resolved to push onward to the south with a stout heart, and endeavour
to gain the mysterious knowledge that was necessary to bring to us both
the peace, happiness, and riches of this world.