DAUD'S ADVENTURES.
Daud confessed to us that he had no very high opinion of the Hindu
astrologer. He thought that he was quite capable of lying, if it suited
his purpose; and that it was by no means impossible that he was mixed up
in the theft of the Golden Girdle. If the latter were the case, the tale
of Mersina's flight and subsequent disposal of the stolen property was,
of course, an invention, to get Daud well out of the way; and it might
be that the astrologer knew that the Girdle was safely deposited
somewhere in Kerbela. The Shammar, however, came to the conclusion that,
whatever was going on, his line of action was quite clear. He would ride
after the sheik who was said to have bought the Girdle, and find out
what truth there was in the story. If it proved to be a lie, he would
return and tax the astrologer with the telling of it. So, getting his
horse at the village, and taking one of the Aeniza with him, he went off
in the direction which the sheik's kafila had taken. From information
picked up at the khans and villages on his route, he found that it was
quite true that the caravan had passed that way a few days previously,
but he failed to ascertain anything reliable about Mersina's presence
with it.
Each day, trying his horse's powers of endurance to the utmost, he rode
immense distances, and after a while heard that he was rapidly gaining
on the sheik's party. Another long day's ride, and he probably would
attain the object of his journey. Starting early to make his final
effort, at mid-day he reached a small village, where, he was told, the
great caravan had halted three nights before. The Arab with whom he
conversed had a strange tale to tell him, and one which, if Daud had not
known the reputation possessed by the Golden Girdle, would have seemed
incredible. In the middle of the night, said the villager, the whole
camp and the village close by were aroused by piercing shrieks from the
women's tents, and soon it became known that the sheik's favourite wife
had suddenly started up in her sleep, had rushed in a state of frenzy
from the tent, and was flying screaming into the desert. The sheik
himself and several horsemen immediately went in pursuit and in the
course of the night brought back the unfortunate lady, who had
apparently lost her reason. More than that the Arab did not know, for
the kafila continued its journey in the morning, and the sheik, at its
head, rode by the side of the camel which carried the _haudaj_, or sedan
saddle, bearing his wife.
Later in the evening Daud passed another village, and heard further
strange stories of the sheik and his wife; how the latter was raving
mad, and was under the impression that snakes were devouring her body;
how the sheik had attempted in vain to appease her, and how the mulla
had declared her to be possessed of a devil. These tales set Daud
thinking, and calling to mind the madness that had seized Kellner when
he rode away with the Golden Girdle, and the other curious things which
he had heard about its mysterious powers, he felt certain that the sheik
had given his wife the precious girdle purchased from Mersina. Rapidly
forming his plan, he pressed forward, and before nightfall he found
himself approaching the encampment of the sheik. He rode straight up to
the sheik's tent, and demanded an immediate interview. This was granted;
and Daud, assuming an air of importance, proclaimed that he had been
despatched by Shustri, the astrologer of Kerbela, to overtake the
sheik, and warn him of the evil that the Golden Girdle was capable of
producing. He told him what misfortunes had befallen people who had worn
the belt, on which there was undoubtedly a curse, and he pointed out
that it was Shustri's opinion that Mersina had committed murder and had
stolen the Girdle--acts which in all probability would intensify the
curse, causing greater misfortunes than ever to fall on its wearer.
The sheik, on hearing this, became as one demented, and acknowledged
that he had paid a large sum to Mersina for the Girdle, because his wife
had desired to possess it; and that no sooner had she unwrapped it and
fastened it round her waist, than she was suddenly taken ill. No one
could say what was the cause of her illness, but now it seemed evident,
from what Daud had related, that it must have been brought about by the
ill-fated Girdle. The sheik, excusing himself, hurried off to his wife's
tent, and presently returned with the Golden Girdle itself, which he
cast on the floor at Daud's feet. For a moment Daud imagined that the
belt lying before him was his to take away, if he had a mind to do so.
He stretched out his hand towards it; but the sheik motioned to him to
stop, saying that he had conferred with his mulla, with the result that
they had determined that this thing of evil should no longer be
permitted to harry the inhabitants of the world. The mulla was now
consulting the Koran, and would in due course come and make known in
what way it would be possible to drive out the evil spirit.
For some time Daud sat watching the entwined mass of serpents in front
of him, longing to snatch up the coveted belt and fly with it. Yet,
brave man as he was, he dared not to make the attempt, and shortly
before midnight the mulla came in, to declare what the Koran decreed.
Carried on the point of a spear, the evil-working Girdle was to be borne
with due ceremony to the Euphrates; plunged three times in its waters;
then carried, still aloft on the spear, across the river for a day's
ride to the east. Here would be found the dreaded Devil's Well, known to
all to be haunted by afreets and evil spirits, and the dwelling-place of
countless snakes. Down into the depths of this dry well the accursed
Girdle should be cast from the spear-point, and there it would find a
resting-place in fitting company, the snakes crawling over their golden
brethren, and the afreets and jins playing with them for all time. No
man would be found courageous enough to descend into the pit and battle
with its inmates. Thus would the world be freed from this great curse.
The sheik agreed that the fate which the mulla had interpreted from the
Koran for the Girdle was well devised, and regretting that the Jew from
whom he had purchased it had left the kafila and had thus escaped being
consigned to the well with his stolen wares, he ordered a three days'
halt to be proclaimed, while he and a party of chosen men proceeded to
convey the Girdle to the Devil's Well. At break of day the party left
the encampment, one man riding ahead with the gold belt transfixed to
his spear. The sheik and his mulla followed, and behind rode an escort
of some twenty horsemen. Daud volunteered to accompany the sheik,
explaining that doing so would only entail a slight delay in his return
to Kerbela, but the sheik requested that he would go straight back to
the town and thank the astrologer Shustri for having sent him with such
valuable information. Moreover, he presented Daud with a handsome inlaid
knife, as a reward for his services. So the Shammar and his Aeniza
companion took leave of the sheik, and rode away to the south, at the
same time as the others moved eastwards towards the Euphrates.
Daud, crestfallen at what he considered to be his failure, travelled
slowly, and, before noon, had covered little ground. He was disgusted
with himself at having let slip the opportunity of carrying off the
Golden Girdle when it lay at his feet. He argued with himself that it
would have been quite feasible to have snatched it up, and, while
everyone was in a state of bewilderment, made good his escape into the
desert. Now, although he had actually seen it, and had had ample leisure
to study the form of each serpent composing it, he had lost it for ever.
He doubted not that what the sheik and his mulla had said was true; that
the last resting-place of the golden snakes would be impenetrable to
man, and that, therefore, there was no chance now that it would ever
come into my possession. He had never seen the place, neither had his
Aeniza companion, and it was at the latter's suggestion that he decided,
a few hours later, that he would endeavour to find it, and satisfy
himself, before returning to Faris, that all hope had gone.
Towards dusk the two travellers reached a small village, close to the
Euphrates, where they intended to spend the night, and try to discover
something about the haunted well. Their host knew of it by repute, but
said that no one would willingly pass within half a day's journey of it,
so evil was the locality supposed to be. From the village it was distant
rather more than a long day's ride, and when Daud expressed a desire to
see for himself what manner of place it was, the Arab reluctantly agreed
that, for a certain sum, he would, on the morrow, show his guests the
way thither, but would not journey with them beyond mid-day. Early next
morning they set out, crossing the Euphrates on inflated skins, with
their horses swimming behind them, and then, striking north-east across
the plain, rode rapidly for several hours. At noon their guide said that
he must return, but explained to them the direction in which they should
proceed, mentioning certain distant landmarks which would assist them to
find the way, and warning them that no man had ever been known to spend
the night near the well and return alive.
Hour after hour the two determined men rode on, picking up the
landmarks one by one, and feeling certain of their direction. But the
sun was fast sinking, and there were still several landmarks unpassed.
Then darkness coming on, they were forced to abandon further progress
until daylight should again open up the country to them. Accustomed to
sleep anywhere, a night in the desert was no hardship to them, and, much
refreshed, they eagerly pushed on at daybreak. The last part of their
ride, they were told, would be in the bed of a wadi; then over a ridge;
and then the Devil's Well.
In an hour or so they reached the wadi, and knew that they were nearing
their destination. It was now necessary to make certain that the sheik's
party had cleared off; so, casting widely round to the westward, they
searched for the marks of the horses, and soon found what they sought.
These footprints, they presumed, marked the route taken by the party on
going to and returning from the well, so they followed what had become a
beaten track, to find themselves, almost at once, on the brink of the
dreaded well. It was apparent that the place must at one time have been
close to a caravan route, though many years must have elapsed since it
contained water. In structure not altogether unlike the wells of the
Lady Zobeide which Daud had often visited when roaming to the south of
Meshed Ali, it was deeply excavated, and on three sides lined with
massive blocks of stone. The fourth side was more open, and seemed to
have had a succession of steps leading gently down to the water's edge.
Now, however, the greater part of the masonry had crumbled away; and the
steps no longer existed, except that here and there their remains could
be occasionally seen. Bushes grew densely in every cleft and on each
ledge; so that the precipitous sides of the chasm appeared to be clothed
with stunted shrubs.
Daud waxed warm as he described the place, and said that from one point
it was possible to look sheer down to the bottom, perhaps a hundred
feet; and from that spot, he and his friend, lying at full length, had
peered into the depths. There they saw a space of some extent, the
centre of which was bare and smooth, as if water at times lay there;
while all around were strewn heaps of stones, which had rolled down from
the walls, with bushes growing between them. The morning sun, shining
through the open end, lighted up the whole well, and as Daud gazed down,
he could see clearly all that he desired to see. On the bare ground at
the bottom was the Golden Girdle, lying unclasped, in a heap, as it had
evidently fallen from the spear on which it had been carried; and the
mulla's prophecy was even already being fulfilled, for several great
snakes were seen coiling and uncoiling themselves close by. For a long
while the two men, fascinated by the weird scene below them, continued
to look down; then they arose and walked round the edge of the well,
surveying it from every point. That no man would ever recover the Girdle
they felt satisfied, and cursing the spot and everything connected with
it, they decided to leave it as quickly as possible, and return to bring
the news to Faris and myself.
Riding throughout the remainder of that day and the night that followed,
next morning they reached the Euphrates, some miles below the village
whence they had started for the well. The river was in flood, and with
difficulty they swam their horses across; but at length, only the open
desert separated them from our encampment. Forgetting the distance that
still remained to be traversed, they had neglected to carry sufficient
food and water for the journey, and on the third day they found that
they had little of either left. They were now aware that, unless they
rode unceasingly and swiftly, they must perish of hunger and thirst, but
fortunately they were well mounted, and thus escaped the death that had
threatened them.
With what excitement we listened to Daud's account of his wanderings
can be imagined. We praised him for his pluck, and thanked him for all
that he had gone through; but that all our hopes should be thus blighted
depressed us deeply. Faris and I talked the matter over for hours in
private, and we agreed that until we ourselves had looked into the
depths of the well of ill-repute, and had seen that it was impossible to
recover the Girdle, we would not rest content. One thing was certain;
Daud must guide us to the spot. But he could not undertake such a ride
for some days, although, when we spoke to him about it, he was eager to
set out at once. Yet we knew that if he broke down, our attempt would
prove a failure, and we decided that he should have a week's rest before
we put our plans into execution.
As Daud's strength returned his enthusiasm increased. He suggested that
we should lower a man into the well at the end of a strong rope, and
with a spear-point bent in the form of a hook it would be easy to secure
the Girdle without actually touching the bottom and risking the peril of
snakes.
In making our preparations the week passed quickly enough, and the world
seemed brighter again. We even went so far as to arrange about the
future. As soon as the Girdle was ours, we would ride straight to
Baghdad, my friends remaining in hiding near Akarkouf, while I rode on
in triumph to the city, and afterwards returned with the reward which I
had promised to Daud. As to Shahzadi's shoe, I swore to Faris, as his
blood-brother, that he should have it as soon as I could obtain it from
England.
"Then," said the sheik, smiling, "will all the Aeniza remember the words
of Raspul, '_Wealth untold cometh to the man whose mare shall carry the
iron with which Shahzadi was shod._'"
"And, brother," said I, "if it please Allah, that man shall be none
other than Faris-ibn-Feyzul."