Though I sought the advice of the cadi of the strange old Arab town of
El Biodh, and also explained my desire to several of the Sheikhs whom I
met, I could hear of no one going in my direction. To set out into the
naked Desert alone would, I knew, be a most foolish proceeding,
therefore I could do nothing but wait until, through the good offices of
a man to whom Gajere introduced me before his departure, I obtained
permission to accompany a caravan of the tribe Kel-Imanan, whose chief
town is Djanet, about two hundred miles on my route, and one morning,
after I had remained as the guest of the friendly Arab for a week, I
once more found myself on the back of a camel, and from my elevated seat
cast a last glance over the pleasant picture presented by the oasis.
[The word "Kel" denotes the habitual residents of a Saharan district.]
Our caravan, headed by the Sheikh Makita, numbered about ninety souls,
and included men, women, and children, who with fifty camels had been to
In Salah with salt and dates, and were now returning with cotton and
silk goods, which would eventually find their way into the country in
the far south beyond Lake Tsad. Makita and I were soon very good
friends, but from the moment we started I observed that he ruled his
people in a most despotic manner. They were Children of the Sun, with
whom theft is no crime, and revenge is virtue.
The first hours of our journey were pleasant enough, for we passed
through a beautiful palm-grove bordered by scattered gardens, where the
people were busy in the cool of the morning irrigating the corn and
vegetables. They came out to see us depart, but without expressing any
feeling, hostile or otherwise. After a mile and a half the plantation
ceased, and presently we entered a luxurious valley between three and
four miles broad, rich in herbage and full of ethel trees, which crowned
the tops of small mounds. Several other valleys, rich in sebot and
adorned with talha trees, brought us to the well of Gara Beida, where we
encamped for the night at the foot of some cliffs of considerable
height, which were to be ascended on the following day.
Commencing our task at dawn, we found the precipitous path wound through
loose blocks, and the ascent proved most difficult. The loads had in
many instances to be taken off the camels, and we all had to climb on
foot up the steep, narrow way over the rugged red sandstone. The ascent
took over two hours, and at last we found ourselves on a great rocky
level destitute of herbage, stretching away as far as the eye could
reach. This region was the wildest, most barren, and most difficult to
traverse that I had ever experienced, and it was then that I realised
the wisdom of old Makita, who had prevailed upon me to leave Zoraida's
horse behind and mount a camel.
Very slow and tedious our journey proved for four days, the rough nature
of the ground making it exceedingly difficult for the camels, until on
the fifth day we began to descend by a narrow rocky ravine into a deeper
region, amid scenery that was grander than I expected to find in that
arid country. Here I saw plants and flowers, the most noticeable among
the latter being one that grew about twenty feet high, bearing a white
and violet flower which my Arab companions called "tursha." There were
also the jadariyeh, the shia, and the damankadda and dum palms, all of
which, however, are familiar to the traveller in the Great Sahara.
There was a small torrent too, the bed of which was overgrown by wild
melons, and beside the rippling water we halted for the night, prior to
moving out into the wilderness again.
Few, however, moved far from the camp that evening, for my dark-faced
companions spoke with timorous exclamations of the numbers of lions
which infested the valleys. While the camels browsed greedily upon the
fresh allwot, the monotony of the evening was relieved by performances
by Makita's musicians and the dancing of several Soudanese slave girls.
On the following day we entered a much wilder country, and for a week we
plodded on over the hot dry sand, during which time we only came across
one well. The sun was blazing, its fiery rays beating down upon us more
fiercely as we travelled further south. The choking clouds of sand
raised by the camels, the inability to wash, and the continual consuming
thirst, were some of the many discomforts we had to bear. Within sight
of a great barren peak called Mount Telout, rising dark and rugged some
three thousand feet above the level of the trackless, sandy waste, we
passed, and entered the inhospitable country of the Izhaban. Not until
a few days later, when we had halted at a well called Djerdeb for our
noonday rest, did Makita coolly inform me that the country through which
we were passing was the territory of a slave-raiding tribe, the
Kel-Fade, who had on several occasions besieged their town Djanet, and
had even gone so far as to threaten Rhat, the principal town of the
Northern Touareg.
"But dost thou apprehend attack?" I asked concernedly, as we squatted
together under the shadow of a tree, a little apart from the others.
"It is as Allah willeth it," he replied gravely, stroking his grey beard
and taking a deliberate pull at his long pipe. "One of the
camel-drivers, however, hath declared that he detected a horseman of the
Kel-Fade in hiding in the valley through which we passed two days ago.
It is possible that he is a scout; if so, we may find ourselves
compelled to fight."
"Was it absolutely necessary to pass through this region? Could we not
have avoided it?"
"No. On the plain called Admar neither man nor beast can exist, for
there are no wells, and the region remaineth unexplored. In a week we
shall enter the gates of Djanet. Till then, we must be vigilant and
watch warily, lest we are surprised. If we were, it would peradventure
mean death or slavery for all of us."
This was not reassuring. Previous experience had taught me how deadly
were the feuds between the various desert tribes possessed of souls of
fire, and how fierce and sanguinary were the struggles when collisions
occurred. I had not forgotten the swift, awful fate of the caravan of
Ali Ben Hafiz, nor the bloody combat with the fierce freebooters of Hadj
Absalam; and when I reflected that the packs of our camels contained
very valuable merchandise, and that nearly a quarter of the number
comprising our party were women and children, I confess I had some
misgivings.
As the succeeding days passed in perfect security, and as the Sheikh, to
judge by his jubilant manner, considered that the danger of attack was
over, the apprehensions passed entirely from my mind. Though the heat
was intense and the journey monotonous, our long string of camels
plodded onward at the same slow, measured pace day after day, regardless
of the fiery sun. At night in the moonlight, when the wind blew in
short refreshing gusts, the camel-drivers would sit and play _damma_,
the women would chatter and scold their children, and the musicians
would twang weird Arab airs upon their queer-shaped instruments or thump
on their _derboukas_, while ebon-faced damsels danced on the mat spread
for them. Indeed, under night's blue arch life in a desert encampment
has an indescribable charm that is irresistible to those of roving
disposition, to whom the hum of cities is a torture and who have thrown
off the conventional gyves of civilisation to wander south beyond the
Atlas.
In the dull crimson light of the dying day, that made the foliage of the
palms and talha trees look black as funeral plumes above us, we halted
at the well of Zarzaoua in a small oasis in the centre of a wild rocky
district known to the Arabs as the Adrar. It was, the Sheikh informed
me, only three days distant from Djanet, and the approaching termination
of the journey, which had extended over four months, put everyone in a
good humour. On the morrow we should cross the boundary, and my
companions would enter their own country; then the remainder of the
journey to their town would be devoid of danger.
At the hour of prayer each of our men prostrated himself towards Mecca,
and old Makita, a very devout and bigoted Moslem with Time's deep
furrows on his brows, cried aloud the following words, which were
repeated by his people, who at the end of every sentence kissed the
ground.
"O Allah! bless and preserve and increase and perpetuate and benefit and
be propitious to our Lord Mohammed and to his family and to his
Companions, and be Thou their preserver. O Allah! these Thy people are
delivered. One and all, may Thy Blessing rest upon us. O Allah! pardon
our sins and veil our faults, and place not over us one who feareth not
Thee, and who pitieth not us, and pardon us and the True Believers, men
and women, the quick of them and the dead, for verily Thou, O Allah, art
the hearer, the near to us, and the answerer of our supplications."
Then, after reciting the testification, and drawing their palms down
their faces, they went through a two-bow prayer, and the devotions,
throughout exceedingly impressive, ended.
Immediately there was bustle and activity. Camels were lightened of
their packs and allowed to browse at will upon the long oat grass, a
tent was quickly pitched for the Sheikh, a fire was kindled, the
kousskouss was cooked, and as the dim twilight darkened into night and
the moon's rays shone like silver through the feathery palms, sounds of
singing and revelry awakened the echoes of the fertile grove. Makita
and I had given ourselves up to cigarettes and calm repose as we
squatted on a mat and lazily watched the terpsichorean efforts of a
thick-lipped young negress, whose movements were exceedingly graceful as
compared with those who had on previous evenings essayed the same
performance for our entertainment. The cool breeze fanning my
sun-seared cheeks gave me a feeling of perfect peace and ease after the
heat and burden of the long weary day, and lolling upon the cushions
spread for me, the monotonous chant of the people assembled and the
measured thumping of tom-toms almost lulled me to sleep.
Suddenly the sound of a shot startled us.
The music ceased, and the men, with ears alert, exchanged quick glances.
Loud fiendish yells rent the air, and in a moment, almost before anyone
could seize a gun, a hundred dark-visaged horsemen, with their white
burnouses flowing behind, swept down upon us, firing their long rifles
indiscriminately and shouting the most horrible maledictions.
Within a few seconds a fierce fight had commenced. The shrieking women
and children flew into the thick dark undergrowth, while the men,
seizing their arms and obtaining cover where they could, kept up a sharp
fusillade, which had its effect in temporarily checking our assailants.
Fortunately my magazine-rifle was at hand, and it proved a most deadly
weapon. Our men were mostly splendid shots, but the enemy, who proved
to be the Kel-Fade, had the advantage of vastly superior numbers.
The fight was desperate. Dismounting, and leaving a dozen of their
number lying dead, our enemy withdrew among the palms, whence they
poured upon us a galling fire. Makita and I, lying on the ground beside
each other, discharged our rifles steadily whenever a white-robed figure
showed itself among the trees. Without betraying any fear, the old Arab
reloaded time after time and shot as coolly as if gazelle-hunting, an
example that was followed by his men, some of whom, however, were
falling under the quick volleys from the enemy.
For fully a quarter of an hour the fight continued, when suddenly loud
triumphant yells burst forth as a second party of horsemen rode down
upon us. Then we knew defeat was inevitable. Against nearly two
hundred Arabs armed to the teeth we could make no further stand, yet, as
the reinforcements dashed among us, our men sprang up, and a second
later a dozen horses were riderless. Again and again rifles rang out
and men fell to earth mortally wounded, but the steady fire from the
palms opposite was playing fearful havoc among us, and my companions
were each moment falling back lifeless. Yet not a man was dismayed;
each, struggling desperately for his life, bore his part in the hasty
defence. Considering the suddenness and vigour of the attack, it was
indeed surprising that we could offer such a stubborn resistance, for up
to the present the losses of our assailants were much heavier than ours;
nevertheless, by degrees, the firing of the Kel-Fade grew more rapid,
and was, alas! more effectual.
Once the hostile Arabs made a rush in our direction, but we were
prepared. Having my magazine fully loaded at that moment, my rifle
proved an effective addition to those of my companions, but again and
again the effort of the enemy was repeated, and though some men fell
every time, they at last succeeded in rushing right in upon us.
Standing in deadly peril, each moment was one of the most intense
excitement, when in the dark shadow rifles flashed, and hoarse, fierce
yells sounded above the firing as the tall Arabs dashed forward to
secure us as prisoners. The struggle was desperate, literally hand to
hand, when suddenly I heard a loud wail, and the Sheikh dropped his
rifle, stumbled forward, and fell heavily to the ground. Then, for the
first time, I remembered that the Crescent of Glorious Wonders--my
treasure which if lost could never be replaced--was in my camel's pack,
lying with the others about two hundred yards from where I stood!
Turning, I saw in dismay that a number of the Kel-Fade had already cut
open the packages of merchandise and were examining their booty.
Covering one of the men with my rifle, I picked him off, but as he fell,
I saw that at a little distance from the others a tall thin Arab had
opened my pack and was rifling it.
Meanwhile by the death of Makita my companions had become demoralised.
They saw that to attempt to drive off their assailants was an utterly
forlorn hope, for though they never relaxed their fire for a moment, yet
half of their number were lying dead or wounded, and most of the women
and children were in the hands of their deadly enemy. A fight between
these Sons of the Desert is always a stubbornly-contested butchery, and
this was no exception. My friends made a gallant stand against an enemy
treble their strength, but at last the brave fellows felt themselves
overpowered, and suddenly acknowledged their enemy's superiority,
although they fought on hand-to-hand to the very last. In the awful
_melee_ I found myself close to where the camels' packs were piled.
The tall thin-faced Arab who had been turning over my saddle-bag drew
forth the old leather case, tore it open, and took out the Crescent.
Holding it in his hands, he regarded it with evident curiosity, but in
an instant I sprang upon him. The knowledge of its value as the means
of securing to Zoraida and myself peace and happiness gave me courage
and a strength almost demoniacal. Indeed, I was surprised at my own
actions, for, falling upon him, I snatched the mysterious object from
his grasp, and ere he could raise his flashing blade, I had drawn the
knife from my sash and buried it in his breast.
The moment was one of desperation. I had struck the blow unerringly,
and with a loud cry he fell backward a corpse.
Ere I could recover from the shock my deed caused me, I felt myself
seized by three stalwart Arabs, whose fierce, determined faces told me I
need expect no mercy, and though I struggled violently, cords were
quickly slipped upon my wrists, and in a moment I found myself helpless
as a babe.
Though I clung to the Crescent of Glorious Wonders with all the strength
I possessed, it was wrenched from my grasp from behind, and that so
quickly in the confusion and horrible bloodshed that I failed to
discover into whose possession it had passed!
My heart sank within me and I became filled with dark, gloomy
forebodings. The treasure that had been confided to my safe custody by
Zoraida I had lost, and with it had vanished in an instant all hope of
winning her! Had not she plainly told me that the successful
accomplishment of my mission would save her life?--yet I had now lost
the strangely-shaped steel, the mystic properties of which were known to
only two persons in the world!
Was this dire catastrophe prophetic of the end?
In those few seconds the hope that for so many weeks had buoyed me and
incited me to push determinedly onward to my goal; the anticipations
that some day I should return to civilisation and claim as my wife the
most lovely woman I had ever gazed upon, were shattered by this double
disaster that had so suddenly befallen me.
While the Crescent remained in my possession, and I was free to journey
southward, there was still, I felt, a possibility of some day reaching
Agadez. With my treasure filched from me the object of my journey had,
however, gone. Though I had travelled so many weary miles towards the
City of the Sorcerers, my efforts on Zoraida's behalf were thus rendered
entirely futile, and reflection only filled me with such black dismay
and despair, that, had not my knife been wrested from me, I verily
believe I should have dealt myself a fatal blow.
My zealously-guarded treasure had in a second passed from my keeping
into unknown hands that would most probably toss it away as worthless,
yet how could I recover it now that I had been captured by these fierce,
brutal slave-raiders, who were reputed to be among the most merciless of
the wild freebooters of the Desert?
The disaster overwhelmed me. Bound hand and foot, I stood powerless in
the hands of my enemies. The morrow's sun to me might never rise!