THE SHEIK'S STORY.
That night we stayed at the grazing-ground, half expecting another
attack, the sheik thinking it by no means unlikely that there was a
large number of the Shammar tribe on the hills. But nothing occurred to
disturb our rest, though we took it in turns to watch all night, Edwards
keeping Sedjur company, whilst I sat with Faris. For half an hour or so
after we came on duty the sheik remained silent, then he began to speak
in a low tone.
"Magician," he said.
"Do not call me by that name," I said laughing. "I am nothing of the
kind."
"Well," he replied, "if the name does not please you, I will not call
you by it. Still, the man who can tell one all about the breed of a mare
directly he sees her, who can recover his own stolen property whensoever
he chooses, and who has just now returned to me all my stolen mares--a
man who can do such things, I say, must possess powers of no ordinary
kind. Such a man we desert folk call by the name magician."
"So be it, sheik," said I, not caring to argue further about the matter,
"call me what you will. But what was it you were going to say when I
interrupted you."
"It was a small thing," said he. "I had been thinking of Shahzadi's
shoe, the Muntafik talisman. Where did you say it was kept?"
"In the biggest building in the biggest town in all England," I replied.
"Why should your people wish to keep in such a place so unimportant a
thing as the shoe of one of our mares? I cannot understand you
Europeans. Men come and pay much money for bricks and pieces of stone
picked out of the ground at Babil, and carry them away on the backs of
asses. The Bedouins laugh at them. Do these also go to the big house
where the horse-shoe is?"
"Yes, the house is full of such things, and were it possible to obtain
the Golden Belt of the Great Queen, that likewise would be placed
there."
"Better not," said Faris, "for the big house would totter and fall, and
the whole town would be destroyed. Such things have happened in years
gone by in this land--and, they say, because of that accursed belt. I do
not know if what they say is true, but you have yourself seen what is
left of such a great town as Babil, and I know of many another which has
been levelled, and swallowed up by the sand. I say again, forget that
belt of gold. Tell those who live in the big house that it is lost for
ever. But Shahzadi's shoe is a different thing. Tell me, do the people
who live in the big house keep all they possess for ever?"
"You want to know," I said, "whether you could possibly obtain the
horse-shoe. I will copy the drawing, and write out for you, in Arabic, a
copy of the document which I read to you."
"It would be of small value," said the sheik, with a sigh; "but, oh, if
I could obtain the real shoe of the great Shahzadi, then would I be for
ever happy."
"Sheik," I replied, "it can never be--at least it would be very
difficult. Perhaps if I were to find the Golden Girdle, and were able to
lay it before the keepers of the big house, perhaps, I say, they might
regard me with favour and ask what I would in return. If at that moment
I could reply, 'One, Faris-ibn-Feyzul, a great Sheik of the Aeniza, and
my devoted friend, even he whose assistance enabled me to be successful
in my quest of the Golden Girdle, is the owner of the mare Kushki, whose
grand-dam was the famous Shahzadi. He desires above all things to
possess the shoe of his noble Kushki's grand-dam, and this shoe is in
your keeping.' Then, perhaps, the great men would consult together, and
might say to me, 'You have done well in recovering the Great Queen's
belt, and Faris ibn-Feyzul must be a truly worthy man; it is well that
he should receive a fitting reward for his valuable services; therefore
we ordain that the shoe of the mare Shahzadi shall be handed to you for
conveyance to the sheik.'"
"That would indeed be a day of days for me, and for all the Aeniza,"
said the sheik. "But, alas, it can never be more than a dream. For, if I
understand you rightly, the price of the shoe is that belt of gold."
"Yes," I answered, "that is what I meant."
"You cannot forget the wretched thing," said he, almost angrily. "Let
the world go on its way. Do not seek to destroy all that is good in it.
There are things which Allah has decreed shall be left alone; and if its
history has been handed down to us truly, this golden circlet is one of
them."
"Sheik," I said, "you are a great man, and chief of an important branch
of a great tribe. Your men regard you with reverence and respect, and
your position has doubtless given you a vast knowledge of men and of the
affairs of the world. Yet you believe in superhuman and supernatural
occurrences; or you think that you believe in them. You think that I am
a magician, because I have been connected with certain events which had
results different from what you expected. You believe in the mysterious
powers of this Golden Girdle, because you have always heard wild stories
about it."
As I concluded, I was astounded at my audacity in thus rating a Bedouin
sheik in his own country, but my object was to draw him out, and to
induce him to divulge what he knew of the Golden Girdle. I was aware
that I could not persuade him that I was not a magician, and I now began
to hope that he was superstitious enough to think that I could see
through him and everything else. I firmly believe that he had the idea
that there was something mysterious about me; otherwise I cannot account
for the fact that this man, the terror of all the neighbouring tribes,
should now, and on many other occasions, have allowed me to speak to
him, and even dictate to him in a manner such as I often did.
Faris remained silent for a long while. I was afraid that I had insulted
him. I did not dare to break the silence, and in the black hours before
dawn this silence became oppressive. At last I summoned up courage, and
put the question--
"I trust, sheik," I said, "that I did not offend you by my open speech."
"No, my son," he replied. And I knew that by thus addressing me, he bore
me no malice.
"You townsmen," he went on, "and especially you Europeans, do not
understand the minds of the dwellers in the desert. Sedjur, after his
return from the Hakim's house in Baghdad, told me many things about you
and your curious ways. In the towns you may not have strange things
influencing your destinies, as we in the desert have always with us.
Perchance, you are protected from them by the soldiers and the watchmen.
In this manner your eyes are blinded, and you do not see such things as
we see."
"Perhaps you are right, sheik," I replied, wishing to appease him. "But
tell me some of the strange things that this golden belt has done?"
"Of myself," he replied, "I know nothing about it. All that I know and
believe was told to me by my father, who saw and was an actor in many of
the events. Other tales, as numerous almost as the stars in the
heavens, I have heard from time to time. Some of them may be true;
others are undoubtedly false. Of the long, long ago, when the belt was
worn by the living queen, I am ignorant. My knowledge is only of modern
times, when my father was a young man. Before I had arrived at years of
discretion the belt had been laid to rest again. I can just recollect my
father's return to camp with his prize of war, the beautiful young mare
Shahzadi, to whose daughter in later years was born my mare Kushki--and
she was born full twenty summers ago."
"You never saw the belt, then," I asked.
"Never," said the sheik, "but my father and other men with whom I was
acquainted had often handled it, and they were fond of describing its
magnificent workmanship--so much so that I have often thought that I
must have seen it myself."
"What was it like?" I inquired, curious to know if his description would
agree with that furnished to me by my papers.
"It was of pure gold," said Faris enthusiastically, "and wonderfully
fashioned. It represented on the outer side, as seen on the waist of
anyone wearing it, twelve life-like serpents intertwined in various
contortions. The flat head of each serpent was thick-set with rare gems,
and the body of each beast was composed of a thousand or more small
links, so that the belt was as flexible as a piece of cord. It was solid
and of great weight, and the fastening consisted of the heads of four of
the serpents, two on either side, with wide-opened jaws whose fangs
interlocked. Thus much I remember of what was told to me; and I remember
also that my father affirmed that no man fastened the belt round his
body with impunity. So great was the power contained in it, that the
wearer appeared instantly to become demented, to rave, and foam at the
mouth, and in some instances even to die before the belt could be
removed from his body. A party of the Khazail who first dug up the
thing suffered considerably in this respect, and perhaps it was
fortunate for them that when attacking a caravan of Persian pilgrims
returning from Mecca they were worsted, and in the fight lost their
treasured circlet. The Persians, shortly afterwards, perished to a man,
when the winds of the desert swept up, and buried them and their camels
in the hot sand. The belt was lost for a while, and forgotten. Then came
the day when some merchants of Hayil, on a journey to Baghdad, chanced
to come across the remains of the Persian caravan, and found the belt
lying half buried in the sand. The finder's claim to its possession was
disputed by his fellows, and in the altercation that followed, he, as
well as three friends who espoused his cause, were killed. The others,
deciding to sell the belt in Baghdad and divide the proceeds, went on
their way. They travelled by night, hoping thus to avoid the bands of
robbers by whom the road was infested, and they lost the direction, so
that they found themselves at length far to the south of Baghdad near to
the river Tigris. One night they slept in the great ruined hall of the
Kosroes at Ctesiphon, and while they slept a vast portion of the walls
gave way and fell, crushing all that remained of the party save two men
who fled in terror, but not before they had secured the golden belt.
They were almost immediately overtaken by robbers, who stripped them of
their clothes, took all their possessions, and decamped with everything,
including that girdle. All those things occurred when my father was
quite a young man, and when my father's father was sheik. I have said
enough to show you that there was a curse on the belt, and that all who
touched it paid the penalty--usually a severe one."
"But, sheik," I said, "tell me more of these weird tales, which interest
me greatly. Had you been a servant of the great Harun-al-Rashid you
could not have learned to tell stories better. Come, the Shammar have
no intention of annoying us, so relate all that you know of the
mysterious workings of the belt until it disappeared for ever. What
became of the robbers who left the two merchants naked in the desert,
and what became of the merchants?"
"Well, story-telling passes the dark hours pleasantly, and though I
would prefer to hear from you the doings of your own people in your
native land, I am your host and therefore your servant, who needs must
obey his master. What became of the merchants I cannot say, for no man
ever knew. Perhaps they perished from exposure to the scorching sun;
perhaps they died of hunger and thirst; or perhaps they fell an easy
prey to the wild beasts. But in what manner they met their death Allah
alone knows. Of the robbers I can tell you what was told to me. They
were Khazail, and strange as it may appear, there were among them some
men who had been of the party that dug up the belt and afterwards lost
it to the Persians. Now these men had been witnesses of the evil that
befell those of their tribesmen who had worn the belt--how some had
died, and some had for a time become mad--and they cautioned their
companions against having anything to do with it. After a long
discussion, they decided that they would bury it on the bank of the
river, send the chief of the party to Baghdad to interview a Jew dealer,
and endeavour to sell it. The Jew eventually returned with the chief,
examined the belt, and bought it for a thousand kerans, after which he
rolled it up carefully in his cloak and conveyed it home. Next day, he
repaired to the palace of the Governor-General and offered the belt for
sale for five thousand kerans; but the Governor-General refused to buy
it for so great a sum. That night the Jew's house was consumed by fire,
the Jew himself being burned to death, and nothing remained of the
contents of the house.
"That the golden belt did not perish in the flames is certain, since it
appeared again after some little time; and many years afterwards a
slave-attendant of the palace harem stated that she had seen a
mysterious snake-girdle hanging therein. It may be that its presence
there accounted for the fact, which was well known at the time, that a
grievous sickness attacked the ladies of the harem and their children.
Many died, for there was nothing that would cure them. But of that
little ever came to light.
"In the course of time the Governor-General, returning to Turkey, took
the road to Damascus, accompanied by a large following and a strong
escort. The news that so large a party was leaving Baghdad to cross the
desert soon got noised abroad among the tribes, but none were found
daring enough to risk an attack on it. A band of Shammar, however,
followed on the heels of the great caravan at a safe distance for some
days, watching their opportunity to waylay stragglers, and eventually
came up with two camels which had broken down and were being urged on by
a few men. The Shammar made short work of the men, and looted the
packages carried by the camels. They contained much valuable property,
and sewn up carefully in several silk _kaffiyas_ was found the Golden
Belt. Fearing to be followed, the robbers made off with their booty as
rapidly as possible, and did not stop until they had put many miles
between them and the caravan. Now it would seem, from what has been
related, that the silk covering which enclosed the belt deprived it of
its power of causing harm; for, it is on record that so long as it was
wrapped up, no man suffered any evil effects from touching it, and it
remained in the possession of the Shammar for some years. Those Khazail
who had first dug it up, and later on sold it to the Jew in Baghdad,
came to see it in the Shammar tents, and identified it as the same belt.
They warned the Shammar of its hidden power, but were derided. Other
tribes, hearing of the Shammar treasure, for which even a Baghdad Jew
had paid a thousand kerans, made friends with its owners, so that they
might inspect it. In this manner this offshoot of the Shammar made
alliances with many tribes who had hitherto been hostile to them, and
the Aeniza--too proud to approach their ancient enemies--were forsaken
by many of their old friends.
"About this time my father's father died, and my father became Sheik of
the Jelas. When he addressed his people, he told them that their
hereditary foes, the Shammar, had grown strong because of their
ownership of the serpents of gold, and he urged upon them the necessity
of breaking the power of the Shammar, by attacking the small Salama
tribe who held the belt, and seizing their treasure. It was my father
himself who told me of this, so I know it to be true. He picked thirty
of his best fighting men, rode all night, and attacked the Salama's camp
at dawn. They resisted bravely, and a fierce fight ensued, but so sudden
had been the onslaught, that the victory was easy. In those days, the
Jelas neither gave nor expected quarter, and though they lost several
men, they utterly destroyed the whole family of the Shammar Salama
occupying these tents, with the exception of the sheik,
Jedaan-ibn-Mirshid, and his spear-bearer, who, leaping to their horses,
fled away. The pursuit was immediately taken up. Jedaan's mare cast a
shoe, which caused her to stumble and fall, and my father, riding up,
slew his enemy with his own hand--capturing the priceless Shahzadi, who,
as you know, was none other than the grand-dam of dear Kushki."
"But how," I asked, "did Shahzadi's shoe become the talisman of the
Muntafik?"
"Ah, that," said the sheik, "is a story for another time."
"And so," I said, "your people secured the Golden Girdle."
"No," replied Faris. "Do you not remember what was written in the paper
which you read to me? Jedaan's spear-bearer escaped in the confusion
attending the combat between my father and the Salama sheik; and, as was
discovered later on, he carried the belt with him. What happened to him
and the belt was only learned many years afterwards. He fled for refuge
to the abode of a seer with whom many of the Bedouin tribes were on
friendly terms, and whom they were in the habit of consulting. This seer
dwelt alone in an underground chamber amongst the ruins of a town named
Katib, at no great distance from Meshed Ali, and he received the refugee
kindly, hiding him in his chamber for several days. When he heard the
tale that he had to tell, and saw that he had with him the Golden Belt,
he was much troubled; for he was convinced that, since the Shammar had
worn the belt round his waist, he would either die before long or become
mad. The seer determined to do what he could to save his guest, and
after going through various ceremonies, which we people do not
understand, he affirmed that he had held converse with the spirit of the
dead Queen, who had told him that if the man proceeded to the ruins of
Babil and buried the belt in the spot from which it had been dug up, so
that no man should ever be able to find it again, and if he afterwards
went and bathed in the Euphrates river, then no further harm should come
to him. The Shammar, now beginning to feel ill, said that he was willing
to obey any command that the seer should give him, but that it was
impossible for him to discover the spot where he should bury the belt.
This his friend assured him would be simple, since the spirit of the
Great Queen could be procured to lend assistance. The Shammar late that
night was given a potent draught; and the seer, after lengthy
incantations, declared that the spirit had entered into him, and that he
could conduct his guest to the very spot. So the two, taking the belt,
proceeded to the ruins of Babil, and there buried the thing. Then the
seer said that the spirit of the Queen required that a great fire
should be lighted over the burial-place, as a signal to the gods that
the Golden Belt was once again at rest. The bushes grew dense all
around; to fire them was a simple matter; and the wind blew the flames
till the fire spread far and wide. This done, the seer commanded the
Shammar to ride with all speed to the river, and there bathe. The
serpents, however, had already eaten into the flesh of the man, and he
was no longer sane. He reached the river bank at dawn, and there, after
a few hours, his body was found impaled on his own spear. Such was the
end of the Golden Belt, and of the last man who wore it. That it
happened as I have told you I am certain, as I had it from the very lips
of that self-same seer."
"Then you knew him yourself," I exclaimed, in astonishment.
"Certainly," replied the sheik.
"How long ago did he die?" I asked.
"He still lives," said the sheik. "He is an old man, but many believe
that he will never die."
The day was already dawning as Faris concluded his strange story, and
the mares were being collected together to continue the journey to the
sheik's headquarters, as it was not considered safe to leave them at
this outlying grazing ground. I thanked my host for having taken the
trouble to talk at such length for my entertainment, but he impressed on
me that his main object had been to show me how useless it was for me to
think of endeavouring to find the Golden Girdle. As a matter of fact,
the end of his story had quite the opposite effect; for the knowledge
that the seer was still in the land of the living gave me a ray of
hope.