He showed infinite cunning in his advance. His sheltered life dropped
from him like a discarded garment. Fortified by his long experience of
vagabond days he displayed the cunning of the young animal that knows
that older animals are stronger and more savage, and must be kept off by
stealth and not by strength.
Keeping close to the deep shadow of the city wall, he watched carefully
the ground in front of his feet so that he should not fall over sleeping
men. In summer it was not rare for men to sleep along this sandy stretch
where the camel caravans passed; and if there were soldiers posted here
that was what they would certainly be doing.
South of him lay the broad city moat, a noisome antediluvian defence.
This he knew he could not cross save by the stone bridges at the city
gates, for it was full of a black terrible slime. Once in his childhood
he had been nearly choked by falling into it, and he still cherished a
wholesome dread of its nature.
He went on slowly thinking of all sorts of things as he stole forward.
Down here, with the great barrier of the city wall cutting him off, the
rifle-fire round the foreign quarter sounded faint--as if it were miles
away. He seemed to have left far behind him all the troubles and the
interests of many chequered days; what was real and absorbing to him was
to keep tally of the outjutting buttresses, so that he might carefully
hide himself before the stone bridge was reached.
Some hovels, built by beggars, loomed up unexpectedly after he had gone
half-a-mile or so. He threw himself on the ground, and listened long and
carefully before he advanced any further. He knew well that if there
were soldiers about they would have certainly taken these shelters and
driven the owners away. He lay so long and so still on the ground that
he dozed a little; when he opened his eyes the waning moon was coming
slowly and majestically over the horizon, making the obscurity of the
mighty city wall seem more funereal than ever.
He watched the moon curiously and lazily as if it had some special
message for him. In a stately manner it lifted itself higher and higher
until it was far above the earthline. Now it threw over the scene a
great silver light in which the hovels stood out like black islands.
Not a sound from them--not a movement. Reassured he scuttled forward
until he was in their shadow. He was sure they were empty. There was no
sound of breathing. Yet to be quite sure he did not stir for minutes.
How queer! As he crept on he saw in the moonlight beyond the hovels a
single old beggar sleeping--a very old man with a white beard, who lay
on his back, with his knees pulled up sharply, and one arm sticking up
as if it did not belong to him. The figure fascinated the boy. He
watched it for a long time. He was quite sure that any one sleeping here
now must know perfectly where the soldiers were posted, and what sort of
men they were--and their numbers, too. Yielding to an impulse he crawled
right up to the sleeper and tapped on the arm which fell at once.
"_Ta-ko_ (elder brother)" he said in an undertone, using a polite phrase
of the people to be sure of a polite reception. "I have strayed far
from my home and am hungry and frightened. I could manage a bowl of
something warm if I knew where to get it."
No answer.
He tried again:
"_Yeh-yeh_ (grandfather) can you not give me some comforting information
about this neighbourhood?"
Still no answer.
"Tortoise!" he exclaimed, exchanging his politeness for an habitual
insult in his irritation as he pulled at the man's sleeve. "Old
tortoise, you sleep deep out here in your rags under the city wall."
Then something prompted him to stop and gaze open-mouthed at the old
man's bare chest and stomach. It had a big dark stain. He bent lower
until his eyes were only a few inches away. Quite distinctly in the
moonlight he could see the marks of the wound.
"_Ssu-la_--he is dead," the boy whispered in a hollow voice.
He was dead--evidently shot down by the soldiers. He had been killed in
sight of his home.
Death in the East is no mystery: yet the boy shivered once or twice
because he was so lonely. The vast barren space under the wall was
tenanted only by this dead man and himself; and lurking somewhere near
were the soldiers.
From far away came a peculiar grunt and snarl which was repeated again
and again. The sound rose and hung on the night air, and now the boy
rejoiced.
"Camels," he exclaimed aloud in his joy. There was a caravan of animals
evidently camped just by the stone bridge, waiting like him for the
dawn. At the first streak of daylight they would be off. It would be
easy to join them. By mixing with the drivers he might escape notice.
Now with the phlegm and patience of his race he sat down with his legs
tucked under him prepared to wait for dawn.
Several times he became so drowsy that he heeled over, waking himself up
completely with the shock of falling to the ground. But he was
determined to remain awake cost what it might to his resolution. There
would be a bare few minutes when dawn came to carry out his plan: if he
missed the first coming of daylight it would be too late and the camels
would be gone.
Calculating by the moon, at three o'clock he began to creep forward on
his hands and knees. He might be mistaken for a dog, he thought, if any
one were watching. He managed it so well that in the gentle night breeze
he smelt the camels long before he could make out a single one of them.
Then listening carefully as he approached, he could hear the murmur of
the camel-drivers' voices. Already they were awake since it was their
habit to start in the dark. But now they would not move until clear
daylight for fear of the soldiers.
Dawn at last and from near the rings of kneeling camels wreaths of
smoke. The drivers were evidently boiling tea for themselves, purposely
delaying their departure until it was safe.
Now clear daylight. The boy by working along under the city wall was
only fifty yards away, sheltered by a high bank of sand. He sat down
with his back to the brickwork watching for the start.
The well-remembered snarling commenced. Jerking roughly at the
nose-rings the drivers were raising the camels to their feet. Now they
stood in a great shaggy herd and with their clumsy bells clanking, they
started off. Quickly yet quietly he raced after them until he was near
the last string: for it is the custom of the country to tie seven to a
group which is led by one man. He gave a swift glance up at the empty
baskets, and saw some sweet-potato vine hanging down. They were
fruits-camels, he was sure. He knew the road they would take out of the
city. It was just right for him.
Round the great belly of brick--the curtain of the city gate--the camels
progressed. There was the stone bridge right in front of them; and on it
were gaudy soldiers' flags. The caravan had come to a dead halt. The boy
peering round the camels' hairy legs could see that there was an
altercation with some guards. One camel-driver was down on his knees
kowtowing humbly. There was a long pause during which the boy's heart
was in his mouth. Would they be allowed to proceed? At last, the long
train commenced swaying forward once more: they had been given the
right to leave the city.
The leading files were already passing across the stone bridge when the
boy saw that the soldiers stopped and interrogated each man leading his
string of seven animals. If they did that to the men what would they not
do to him?
In a flash he made up his mind to a desperate move. There was some long
green creeper, in which the fruit had been packed, still hanging to the
empty baskets on the last camel's back. The boy plucked it rapidly down,
edged up to the last camel's head and rapidly pushed it into the camel's
mouth. The camel grunted its pleasure and commenced mashing the acid
creeper. The boy gave it more. Having quieted it, he grasped the cord
hanging from the baskets, and with a desperate leap managed to pull
himself half-way up. Then holding on like grim death to the fur of the
animal, with a swift wriggle he did an old trick: he threw himself
upside down and got a foot round a hump. Hanging head down, and clawing
at the animal's furry hide, he jerked his light weight completely up.
Exhausted and deathly pale from the exertion, he lay at last safe
between the humps.
The moment of ordeal had arrived.
He knew that there was nothing to fear from the driver of the last
string. He was at least twenty yards ahead with seven swaying animals in
between; and with his heart certainly quaking from fear of the soldiers.
It was only these he had to fear. With his eyes feigning sleep he
squinted out beneath his eyelashes rocking himself to and fro. Here they
were in numbers, in their parti-coloured tunics and their rifles held
menacingly, ready for any sort of violence, delighting in violence. The
boy thought of the white-bearded beggar lying dead on the sands with the
ants beginning already to crawl over him, and closed his eyes
completely, as if he were really sleeping.
He heard their rough talk. He heard one man call attention to the last
tortoise-egg on the last camel; but no one actually molested him.
Clankety-clank went the camels. The stone-bridge was far behind before
he dared move even so much as an eyelash. Then at last he boldly looked
behind. They were turning a corner--safe. Here the narrow street was
absolutely deserted. No soldiers. He slipped to the ground like a flash
and disappeared into a twisting lane.