ACROSS MESOPOTAMIA.
About my voyage out I shall say little--for it was much like any
ordinary voyage to the East--and of the passengers one only need be
mentioned. That one joined the steamer at Marseilles, and became my
cabin companion. He was a German, named Kellner, an amusing and pleasant
individual, who talked English perfectly, and who, in spite of the fact
that he seldom lined up for his morning bath, was tolerably clean. For
some considerable time I could not make out what his business was, but
at last I discovered that he was a "traveller in glass and china," and
was going to Karachi. He interested me a good deal, as he appeared to be
thoroughly well educated, and able to discuss almost any topic.
At Karachi I had to remain two days, waiting for the Persian Gulf
steamer, and when I embarked again I found, to my astonishment and no
little joy, that the only other passenger on board was my friend
Kellner. He explained his unexpected reappearance by saying that he had
had a telegram from his firm, telling him to go on up the Gulf, as there
was a good opening for trade at Bushire and Baghdad. I was delighted at
having his companionship, and during the next week our friendship
increased considerably, so much so, that when we put in at Bushire, I
persuaded him to come on with me to Baghdad, and first do his business
there, taking Bushire on his way back. As was only natural, I had
talked over my plans with him freely, though I had never divulged the
secret of the Girdle, merely telling him that I was going to excavate at
Babylon for the British Museum. He was politely interested in all I had
to say, but he was not enthusiastic, giving it as his opinion that it
would be much more practical to induce the people to take to European
goods and forget all about their past history.
At last we got up to Bussorah, went on board the river steamer, and
after four or five days on the Tigris, came alongside the wharf at
Baghdad. I was duly accredited to the British consul-general, and was
met by a kawas, who removed me, bag and baggage, to the Residency at
once. Kellner went off with an Armenian gentleman, who, he told me, was
agent for the firm for which he was travelling, and we parted with many
expressions of regret that our long voyage was at an end.
The Consul-General had, I found, received a despatch from the Foreign
Office about me, instructing him to assist me in every possible way, and
he was kindness itself. I soon decided that there could be no possible
harm in my telling him the object of my journey; in fact, I came to the
conclusion that it was absolutely necessary. He said that I would have a
most exciting hunt, and that he himself would have liked to have
accompanied me, but unfortunately he could not leave Baghdad for some
time. The Residency surgeon, who had only been in the country about
eighteen months, wanted to visit Babylon, and it was soon settled that
he should go with me--an arrangement that pleased me immensely, as
George Edwards was a man of the world, with a delightful personality. It
took a few days to get things in order: the _firman_ from the Turkish
Government examined and signed by the governor; servants and horses
engaged, and an escort of mounted zaptiehs provided.
At length everything was ready, and, the evening before our departure,
I overhauled all the papers in my despatch-box, in order to refresh my
memory. I had studied them thoroughly on the voyage out, and knew their
contents almost by heart. I had even gone to the length of making a
_precis_ of everything in a note-book. I thought it advisable, however,
to have a final look through the papers, as I did not wish to encumber
myself with the heavy despatch-box, which I had arranged to leave with
the Consul-General. On opening the box I found, to my surprise, all the
papers in a state of confusion--confusion which could not have arisen
from the box having been turned upside down, because I always kept the
papers, which were docketed and tied up in order, in their proper
places, by filling up the box with two thick books. The books I now
found nearly at the bottom of the box, and the bundles of papers were
all untied and thoroughly mixed up. Someone had tampered with the box;
there was not a doubt of it. I hastily checked off the papers with the
inventory in my note-book, and, to my dismay, discovered that one was
missing. I went over everything again--the missing document contained a
carefully-drawn plan of the ruins of Babylon, with instructions as to
the best method of attempting to locate the burial-place of the Girdle.
It was, to my mind, the most important paper in the box; but its loss
was not irreparable, as I had fortunately made copious notes from it,
and possessed a duplicate plan. Nevertheless, it was most annoying to
find that someone had been turning over my papers, and I mentioned the
matter to my host at dinner that night.
"What sort of lock have you got on the box?" he asked.
"A Brahma," I replied, "and the key is on my watch-chain."
"Have you ever left your watch lying about?"
"Never; I have always been most particular about it."
Then I remembered that the day I went on shore at Muskat, I had left my
watch in my cabin. I remembered the fact, because when I visited Jelali
Fort, the governor showed me his watch, and I put my hand in my pocket
to take out mine, wishing to explain the advantages of a repeater, but
discovered that I had left it behind.
"Haven't you opened the box since then?" inquired the Consul-General.
"No, I don't think I have looked at it since I left Karachi."
"Well, probably the inquisitive steward went through your belongings
while you were on shore at Muskat, in hopes of finding a stray
bank-note, and I expect in his hurry he omitted to put all the papers
back."
So we forgot all about the incident, and the following morning Edwards
and I, with our cavalcade of pack-horses, and our soldierly-looking
escort, left the Residency, and riding down the dirty, narrow lane to
the bazaar, crossed the quaint old bridge of boats and got away into the
desert beyond. As we looked back we saw the Consul-General in a _kufa_
in mid-stream waving a last farewell to us, and then we put our little
Arab horses into a canter, and soon settled down for the ride to the
khan (or caravanserai) of Mahmoudieh. It was late when we reached the
solid gate of the khan, and it was closed for the night, but we managed
to find accommodation in the little coffee shanty just outside.
A couple of Bedouin chiefs were in possession of the only room, so the
verandah was handed over to us, and, the night being warm, it was far
pleasanter than being inside, though the corporal of our escort did not
at all like the arrangement, and tried to persuade us that it was most
unsafe to sleep as it were in the open, in a country which was known to
be swarming with robbers and cutthroats. Being Englishmen, we laughed at
the corporal's fears, and after supper and a smoke we turned in on the
frail wicker-work, crate-like beds that had been provided for us, taking
the precaution, however, to have our revolvers handy, and to put
everything of value either under the beds or under our bodies. How long
we had slept I cannot say; I had been dreaming hard, and I had dreamt
that I had found the Golden Girdle--I held it in my hand and gazed at it
in wonder--I found the clasp--with great difficulty I unfastened it--I
put it round my waist--I felt for the clasp to fasten it--nothing would
induce it to close. I pulled with all my might--the Girdle was too small
for my waist. I seized both ends in my hands, held my breath, and pulled
again. My waist was growing smaller and smaller--my body seemed to be
breaking in half. I gave a wild yell, and the clasp snapped with a
report like that of a pistol shot. And it was indeed a pistol shot.
As I awoke with a start, I found that the whole place was in a wild
state of commotion; the zaptiehs were all around us with lanterns, and
Edwards was standing by the side of his bed, with revolver in hand.
"What on earth is the matter?" I asked.
"Had a shot at a blackguard trying to loot our kit, but failed to score,
I am afraid," was the reply.
Then Edwards told us all about it; how he had been aroused by my
restlessness, how he saw, in the moonlight, two men kneeling close to my
bed, and how he quietly took his revolver from under his pillow, and
sprang up, only, however, in time to get a flying shot at the men as
they made off. Their horses were just outside the verandah, and the
thieves were on them and away before he could get another shot in. Our
troopers wanted to go in pursuit, but it would have been perfectly
useless their going out into the desert, as they had not the remotest
idea which road to follow; so we contented ourselves with the
examination of our belongings, to see what we had lost. My heart
absolutely stopped beating when I discovered that my money-belt had gone
from my waist. It was a chamois-leather belt that I had had specially
made in England, with neat little pockets all round it, in which I
carried the whole of my money--about L50 in sovereigns, and a certain
number of silver kerans and rupees.
We were not long in finding out who the thieves were, as the owner of
the house came running out to tell us that the two Bedouin chiefs had
disappeared without paying for their supper or lodgings. Then I
remembered that one of them had passed through the verandah to the inner
room while I was fastening the belt over my sleeping-suit, and he must
have noticed what I was doing, and guessed that the belt was worth
having. My dream all came back to me, and of course my long struggle
with the Golden Girdle was probably caused by the Bedouins taking off my
belt; but I cannot imagine how they got it off without awakening me. It
was gone; there was no doubt about that; and, turning to the
coffee-house man, I demanded what he knew of his two runaway guests.
"Lord!" he replied, "I never set eyes on them before this night. They
arrived after the gates of the khan were shut, and, saying that they had
ridden from the Euphrates, they begged a night's lodging before going on
to Baghdad. What manner of men they were I knew not. I swear it."
I believed him, for he was a Jew, and therefore not likely to give board
and lodging to two strangers unless he thought that they were
respectable and likely to pay their bill. Still, I was not quite certain
that the old gentleman was not a confederate of the Bedouins, so I
called the corporal and told him that I thought he had better take the
owner of the place into Baghdad as a prisoner, and report what had
happened. The consternation of the Jew when he heard the order is
indescribable. He grovelled on the ground at my feet; flung the dust
over his head, and swore to me that he was innocent of participating in
any plot. To be sent in to the Turkish governor of Baghdad would mean
his ruin. He would not be heard. He was a Jew, and there was no justice
for Jews. He begged and implored me to have mercy and to believe his
word. As a matter of fact, I had not the slightest intention of losing
the services of our escort by sending them back to Baghdad, and I was
quite confident that the Jew knew nothing of the robbery. The loss of
the money, however, was rather a serious thing, though, fortunately,
Edwards was carrying enough to supply our probable wants for some time;
and before making a start I sent a letter to the Consul-General, telling
him what had occurred, and asking him to send me some more money to
Babylon. As can be imagined, we were not too well pleased with the
result of our first night in Mesopotamia, and for the next night or two
we took the precaution to keep a sentry on duty while we slept.
Getting away as early as possible in the morning, we rode hard all day,
and, after passing Khan Haswa and Khan Mahawill, at sunset we crossed
the remains of the ancient Parthian earthworks, and entered the ruins of
the Great City, taking up our quarters at dusk on a roof-top of the
little modern village of Babil, lying close by the Euphrates. Every
house in the village was built of bricks dug out of the ruins of famous
Babylon; on every brick was the superscription of Nebuchadnezzar; and it
was with almost sacrilegious feelings that we lay down to rest among
such romantic and old-world surroundings.