RESCUE.
So ill was the unfortunate prisoner, that Edwards insisted that during
the next day's march he should ride unfettered and in comparative
comfort on a camel. He stood the journey well, and on reaching camp he
was no worse than he had been at starting in the morning. Again he was
consigned to our care and accommodated in our tent.
We were now within four days' ride of Meshed Ali, and the Governor (as
we still called him) decided that, before entering the town, it would be
necessary to send forward messengers, with presents to the notables,
requesting an asylum, and asking permission to rent suitable quarters.
This, we learned, might take some considerable time, and in the
meanwhile the _kafila_ was to halt and prepare for the entry into the
Holy City. This delay was most annoying to Edwards and myself, for
having returned, as it were, to the outskirts of civilisation, we were
anxious to take an affectionate farewell of our friends, to whom we
could be no longer of any assistance, and get away on our own business.
Edwards, of course, wished to return to Baghdad as soon as possible; and
I was equally desirous of seeking out Faris, with a view to learning if
he had discovered anything about the Golden Girdle.
"I have been thinking," said Edwards, "that we might clear out from
here. I do not see any use in going on with Ali Khan to Meshed Ali. Our
presence cannot make much difference, and I do not suppose that he and
Haroun really care whether we see them all the way to the town or not.
They will not want a doctor any longer, and they know that as soon as we
reach Meshed Ali we shall continue the journey to Baghdad."
"I quite agree," said I; "the only thing is that we must not do anything
to wound the feelings either of Ali Khan or of Haroun. I am still
haunted by the idea that it was entirely through us that the poor old
Governor came to grief, and he has been a perfect brick about it. Just
think what it all means to him."
"Of one thing," said Edwards, "you may be certain. Directly I get back
to Baghdad, I will induce the Consul-General to espouse his cause, and I
will do my utmost to persuade him to worry the Turkish authorities to
death, or at any rate until they have seen justice done to Ali Khan. If
they choose, they can easily give Hayil a slap on the face, and
reinstate Ali Khan at Adiba, that is to say if the town has not been
destroyed."
"Well," said I, "shall we go and suggest that we would like to go off to
Baghdad at once, without waiting to go to Meshed Ali?"
"We cannot tackle the business to-night," said Edwards. "It is too late
now; I expect they have all turned in; but we will see about it in the
morning. We have not yet settled what we are going to do about this
feeble prisoner and his two friends."
"Perhaps," I suggested, "they will let them go as our guides."
"Not they," said Edwards. "Each of them means a bit of money--a ransom
of a hundred camels for the lot, at least."
"There is nothing for it then," said I, "but the small-pox yarn."
"But I told Haroun to-day that I thought the sick man was ever so much
better," remarked Edwards.
Just then we noticed that our patient was sitting up on his rugs in the
corner of the tent, and gazing at us intently.
"Do you want anything?" asked Edwards.
"Yes, Beg," said the Shammar, "I want to speak to you. I am so much
better, thanks to your care, that I can now talk."
"Probably you wish," said Edwards, "to ask me to let you escape. If that
is what you want, I must tell you at once that, although I would gladly
see you and the others go free, it cannot be, for I have promised that
you shall not escape."
"That does not trouble me," said the Bedouin, "since I have friends in
Meshed Ali, and as soon as I reach the place, we shall be ransomed."
"Then what is it that you wish to say?" asked Edwards.
"I have travelled," said the man, "for several days now with you two
Ingleezee; and, without your knowledge, I have watched all your actions.
You are both kind and good men, but neither of you is the man whom we
were seeking when we entered your camp by the marsh and were captured as
supposed stealers of horses. We had no intention of taking horses or
anything from any man, but we had heard that there were two Ingleezee
travelling with the caravan, and we thought that one of them would be
the man with whom we have a blood feud. We knew that two Ingleezee had
come to the desert, because we found, at the ruins of Katib, the horse
and saddle-bags of one of them, and had actually seen him. The other we
know well, and for him have dared much, but only to be deceived, to be
cheated, robbed, insulted, and even murdered. There must have been three
of you. What have you done with the other?"
"According to you," said Edwards, "there should be four, that is two
besides my friend here and myself. There is the man with whom you are so
anxious to settle accounts, and there is the man whose horse you say you
found at the ruins of Katib."
"No," said the Shammar, turning his eyes on me, "only three. The horse
that we took at the ruins belonged to your friend."
"How do you know this?" I asked, thrown off my guard by the suddenness
with which the statement had been made.
"Thus," he replied; "I met with an accident at the ruins, and was lying
alone among the stones, not ten paces from the spot where you had left
your horse, when you and that Faris of the Jelas came by, and I laughed
when I saw that my friends had taken your horses and left you to walk.
But of this I have spoken to no man outside of my own tribe."
I now began to feel uncomfortable, for, as I said to myself, if this man
were to disclose what he knew to Ali Khan, I should be in a very awkward
predicament. Here was evidence that I and Faris, deprived of our horses,
had been seen walking away from the ruins towards the marsh, just at the
very time that Ali Khan's horses had been stolen, and I was quite sure
that any Arab of ordinary intelligence would be able to put two and two
together.
"Why did you not tell this to your captors when you were taken?" I
asked.
"Because," said the man, "they would not have believed me. But when I
felt very ill, some days back, I was on the point of disclosing
everything. Then you came to succour me, and since that time I have been
filled with gratitude towards you both--so much so, that even if I were
now to be in peril of my life, I would hold my peace concerning what I
saw at those ruins, unless it should be your wish that I should speak."
"What harm would it do my friend," asked Edwards, "were you to proclaim
that you saw him at Katib? The ruins are free to all."
"Even so," said the Shammar, "but we in the desert know all things. News
travels fast. We have heard that Faris did not enter the Jelas
encampment on foot, but riding a horse stolen from this self-same
Governor of Adiba, then encamped by the marsh at no great distance from
Katib. Another horse was stolen at the same time. By whom was it
stolen?"
He looked at me, and smiled; but I did not reply at once to his
question. I was convinced that he was trying to drive a bargain; that in
return for his silence he was to be given his liberty; and I felt that
he had got me up into a corner, with power to do much as he pleased with
me. At first I thought I would bluff him; then I remembered a piece of
advice that Faris once gave me, which was to the effect that one might
humbug a townsman with success, but that with a true Bedouin, honesty
would be found to be the best policy.
"What matter does it make," said I, "by whom the horse was stolen? The
man who stole it required it. The man who lost it could well do without
it. So we will say no more on that point. But tell me of this third
Ingleezee whom you know so well, and whose blood you wish to shed."
"Whence he came," said the Bedouin, "I cannot tell you, but our sheik,
after a visit to Kerbela, brought him back with him to our tents. Since
that time, I and all the men of the tribe have had misfortunes. Sheik
Abbas was slain in battle by your cruel friend Faris; his nephew, even
he who became sheik at the death of Abbas, disappeared at Katib with two
trusty companions. We doubt not that they were murdered by a shaitan who
dwelt in the ruins. I and ten others--all that remained of our
family--went to Katib to find them, but our search was fruitless."
"So, in revenge," said I, "you slew the shaitan, otherwise Raspul,
Priest of the Goddess Sophana."
"How know you?" asked the man.
"How I know matters not," I answered. "But I know it, and, furthermore,
I know that you stole from his dead body that golden belt, which
undoubtedly has proved as great a curse to you as it has to all men who
have touched it."
"Since you know these things," said he, "you and Faris must have watched
us from some hiding-place."
"True," said I.
"Then you saw all?"
"We saw you break in the roof of the temple, and kill Raspul; and we saw
a man descend by a rope."
The Shammar opened his eyes wide, drew a deep breath, and sighed.
"Come now," said I, "tell me what happened to you afterwards."
"There were eleven of us," said he, "and that Ingleezee. As we fled from
the ruins, my horse tripped and rolled over with me, leaving me with an
injured leg, and galloping loose after the others. It was then that I
lay among the stones for many hours, and after a time I saw you and
Faris go by. Next day three of my friends came back to fetch me, and we
went together to the place where they had left the Ingleezee and the
others. All had disappeared. We found the horses' hoof marks, and we
followed them up. They were galloping fast, and though we rode rapidly
we could not overtake them. At length, after several days, we found the
body of one of our friends, lying in the desert. He had been shot by a
bullet from the Ingleezee's pistol. Farther on, we came on another of
our men, who had also been shot, but was not yet dead; and from him,
before he died, we learned all that had occurred. How the Ingleezee had
seized that serpent belt, refusing to pay anything that he had promised;
how he had ridden away with it; how my people had pursued him; and how
when they were overtaking him, he turned upon them and shot them with
his pistol. But that was not all the evil that he did; for as we
journeyed on, we overtook the rest of the men in a _wadi_, four of them
had been wounded, three, as it proved, mortally, and the others had
abandoned farther pursuit, in order to attend to their friends. Then we
all bound ourselves by an oath that we would not rest again in our tents
until we had buried our knives in the body of that Ingleezee. Whither he
escaped we could never discover, for shortly afterwards a great
sand-storm blew over us, and we were unable to again find the footprints
of his horse. It may be that he perished in the storm, but we continued
to search for him in all directions. After some weeks, we heard that two
Ingleezee were living at Adiba, and I and my two companions started for
that place; but, before we had gone very far, we met some Bedouins who
told us that the town had been captured by Hayil, and that the Governor
and the two Ingleezee were fleeing in our direction. So we halted near
the marsh of the great lake, and the rest you are acquainted with. But
when I am again free, I shall continue the search for your countryman,
and one day, if it please Allah, I shall see him die."
I had purposely refrained from interrupting the Shammar as he told his
tale, though I frequently wished to break in and ask questions. Now,
however, I could satisfy my curiosity.
"What manner of man," I asked, "is that Ingleezee?"
"A fat man," was the reply, "and dark, not of a red colour like you
two."
"Are you sure that he is an Englishman? May he not be a native of some
other country of Europe?"
"That I cannot say. I know nothing of the distinctions between the
inhabitants of one country and of another. I only know that he is a
European."
"Did you not know," I asked, "why he came with your sheik from Kerbela?"
"At first, we were told that he came to see the desert, as Europeans do
sometimes. Then, one day, Sheik Abbas called us together and told us
that the seer at Katib possessed a gold belt, which the Ingleezee
desired to buy; that he would give 5000 kerans for it, and that two of
us should go and ask Raspul to sell it. So I and another went to the
ruins, and interviewed the seer. He told us that he had no belt, but
afterwards he brought it and showed it to us, and expressed his
willingness to part with it. We arranged with him that the price should
be 2000 kerans, so that we might all share with Sheik Abbas the other
3000, and he agreed to bring the belt to a certain spot near Babil on a
certain day. Proudly, we returned to our tents, and told the sheik what
we had done, and the Ingleezee, on hearing it, gave each of us some gold
money as bakhshish."
"But," I inquired, "had the Ingleezee 5000 kerans with him, so that he
might purchase the belt?"
"No," said the Bedouin, "he had only a little money, but a Jew in
Kerbela had told our sheik that, if the Ingleezee wrote on a piece of
paper the amount of any sum that he required, then Yusuf Mersina, the
Baghdad merchant, would pay it. So the Ingleezee wrote down 5000 kerans
and gave the paper to the sheik, and it was agreed that when Raspul
delivered over the belt, Sheik Abbas should take it and the paper to
Baghdad, and receive the money, and we were to ride with the Ingleezee
to Bussorah."
"Why was not the Ingleezee to take the belt?" I asked.
"Because Sheik Abbas would not let it go out of his possession until he
received the money, since he was to be responsible to the seer for the
payment of the 2000 kerans."
"I understand," said I. "But tell me, did the seer bring the belt to the
appointed place?"
"No," said the man, "a curse on him! We waited for him for three hours:
in his stead came your Faris; and Sheik Abbas fell at his hands. Then
the Ingleezee spoke to Sheik Ahmed, and said that if he procured the
belt he would give 5000 kerans. Ahmed went to Katib to see Raspul,
taking with him two men; and those three we have never seen since. It
was thus that the rest of us went to the ruins, and carried off the
belt, hoping to obtain the 5000 kerans from the Ingleezee. But my
friends tell me that he took the belt and sewed it up in his cloak, and
when they demanded the money, he told them that he had already paid
Sheik Abbas 5000 kerans, and that he could pay no more. It was then that
he rode away, as I have already related."
The man was so exhausted by talking, that Edwards now insisted on his
taking a draught and going to sleep. We ourselves sat up for some time,
discussing matters, and trying to unravel the mystery of the stranger
who had defeated me over the Golden Girdle. As we worked it out, the
whole thing seemed clear enough. Some foreigner knew as much as I did
about the Girdle, and had somehow learned that it was in existence above
ground. He had apparently discovered this from someone at Kerbela, who
had handed him over to the Shammar. The German note which we had read
was, of course, his order for the payment of the 5000 kerans to Sheik
Abbas. The courage of the man astounded us; he made up his mind to annex
the Girdle; to keep it, he had made free use of his revolver, and though
I did not admire his bloodthirsty methods, it was a bitter thing to me
to have to acknowledge that I was not in the running with such a man.
"I am afraid it is all up with the prize now, George," I said.
"Yes, I am afraid so," said Edwards. "But we will get back to Baghdad,
and put the screw on this Yusuf Mersina, until he divulges the name of
the villain."
"That will not help much," I said. "He has probably reached Bussorah
long ago, and is half way to Europe by now."
"A wire will stop him at Karachi, or Aden, or somewhere, and have him
arrested for murdering Turkish subjects," said Edwards.
"That would not be very sporting," I replied. "I expect the best thing
will be to say nothing of what we have heard."
We were both soon asleep, and of what actually happened after that, and
when it happened, I have no knowledge. All I can say is that at some
time in the night I was aroused by a slight rustling noise in the tent,
and before I was half awake I felt myself being smothered by something
like a rug being held over my face. Thinking that I was suffering from
nightmare, I kicked and struggled, and wondered when I was going to wake
up, but the comforting feeling that it was only a dream never came.
Instead of it, several hands seemed to hold me down, and presently, as I
still struggled, they gripped me harder and harder, and I found that my
legs and arms were being bound with ropes. Then suddenly, fingers passed
across my face, under the rug; my mouth was prised open, and, before I
could utter a sound, a great wooden gag was thrust between my teeth, and
secured by a string behind my neck. In this state, and in total
darkness, I was left for a few minutes; then two men quietly lifted me
up, and carried me outside the tent, away into the black night, at a
jog-trot One man had his arms round my knees, while the other supported
my shoulders; and I soon found that by no amount of struggling could I
free myself. After travelling in this uncomfortable manner for, it may
have been, half a mile, I was deposited on the ground, and a moment
later was hoisted on to the back of a squatting camel, and secured with
ropes to one side of a pannier-like framework. What weight on the other
side balanced mine I could not see, as, although there was a certain
amount of light from the stars, the great hump of the beast blocked my
view. Several men held on to me as the camel was made to rise, and it
was as well; for otherwise, in all probability, I should have had many
broken bones. A lurch backwards, a lurch forwards, and a final lurch
sideways, brought me high above the ground; then came a frantic plunge,
and I knew that the "ship of the desert" had set sail.