During half a century of constant wandering over the silent sunlit
sands, of tribal feuds, of revolts, battle and pillage, of bitter
persistent hatreds, of exploit, foray, and fierce resistance against the
lounging Spahis, cigarette-smoking Zouaves, black-faced Turcos, and
swaggering Chasseurs of the French, I have met with some curious
adventures, and have witnessed wonders more remarkable, perhaps, than
many of the romances related by the Arab story-tellers. They mostly
occurred before I was chosen sheikh of the Azjar; when I was simply one
of a band of desert-pirates, whose only possessions were a long steel
lance, a keen, finely-tempered poignard, and a white stallion, the speed
of which was unequalled by those of my companions. A thief I was by
birth; a scholar I had become by studying the _Tarik_, the _Miraz_, the
_Ibtihadj_, and the Koran, under the Marabut Essoyouti in Algiers; a
philosopher I fain would be. When riding over the great limitless
red-brown sands, I was apt to forget the race whence I sprang, the
learning that had made me wise, the logical reasonings of a
well-schooled brain, and give myself up with all the rapture of an
intense enthusiasm to the emotion of the hour. It was the same always.
Essoyouti, a scholar renowned throughout Tripoli and Tunis, had versed
me in legendary lore, until I had become full of glowing fancies and
unutterable longing to penetrate the entrancing mysteries to which he
had so often referred as problems that could never be solved.
I am a Veiled Man. Openly, I confess myself a vagabond and a brigand.
Living here, in the heart of the Great Desert, six moons march from
Algiers, and a thousand miles beyond the French outposts, theft is, with
my nomadic tribe, their natural industry--a branch of education, in
fact. We augment the meagreness of our herds by extorting ransoms from
some of our neighbours, and completely despoiling others. Mention of
the name of Ahamadou causes the face of the traveller on any of the
caravan routes between the Atlas mountains and Lake Tsad to pale beneath
its bronze, for as sheikh of the most powerful piratical tribe in the
Sahara, I have earned an unenviable notoriety as leader of "The Breath
of the Wind," while the Arabs themselves have bestowed upon my people
three epithets which epitomise their psychology: "Thieves, Hyenas, and
Abandoned of Allah."
The only law recognised by my race, the Touaregs, is the right of the
strongest. We wear the black _litham_ wrapped about our faces, leaving
only our noses and eyes visible, and never removing it, even at
meal-times. It becomes so much a part of us that any one being deprived
of his veil is unrecognisable to friends or relatives. If one of our
number is killed, and divested of his veil, no one can identify him
until it has been restored to its place. We are therefore known and
dreaded as "The Veiled Men."
My first journey by paths untrodden resulted strangely.
For two whole moons a party of us, numbering nearly three hundred, all
well-armed and desperate, had been lurking in a narrow ravine in the far
South, known as the Gueden, close to the point where it is crossed by
the route taken by the caravans from Lake Tsad to El Aghouat in Algeria.
News travels fast in the desert. We had received word that a caravan
laden with ivory and gold-dust was on its way from Kuka to Timissao, and
were awaiting it, with the intention either of levying toll, or
attacking it with a view to plunder. In our sombre robes of dark blue
kano cloth and black veils, we were a mysterious, forbidding-looking
rabble. As day succeeded day, and we remained inactive, with scouts
ever vigilant for the approach of our prey, I recollected that in the
vicinity were some curious rocks, with inscriptions recording the
Mussulman conquest, and one morning, mounting my _meheri_, or swift
camel, rode out to inspect them.
The sun rose, and beneath its furnace heat I pushed on into the great
waterless wilderness of Tasili, the true extent of which is unknown even
to us Children of the Desert, for the utter dearth of water there
renders a journey of many days impossible. Until the _maghrib_ hour I
remained in the saddle, then dismounting, faced towards the Holy Ca'aba,
recited my _fatihat_, ate a handful of dates, and squatted to smoke and
watch the fading of the blood-red afterglow. On the next day, and the
next, I journeyed forward over the wide monotonous plain, where the
poison-wind fanned my brow like a breath from an oven, and nothing met
the aching eye but glaring sand and far-off horizon, until, when my
shadow lengthened on the sixth day after parting with my companions, I
found myself within sight of a range of high hills, looming darkly
against the brilliant sunset.
Well acquainted as I was with the geography of my native sands, I had
never heard mention of these hills, and was therefore convinced that I
had mistaken the route to the great black rock whereon the inscriptions
were engraved, and was now approaching a region unexplored. On many
occasions I had traversed the caravan route to Timissao, and crossed the
rocky ravine where my companions were now in ambush; but none of us had
ever before left that track, clearly defined by its bleaching bones, for
to the solitary traveller in that inhospitable region a pricked
water-skin or a lame camel means death. With irrepressible awe I gazed
upon the hills, clothed in the deep purple light of the descending sun,
because of one strange thing my eyes had detected. I saw, above the
serrated line, two cone-like peaks, rising close to one another, in
majesty solemn and sublime, and recognised in them a scene exactly as
described by my master Essoyouti, in one of the curious romances he was
fond of relating. I stood recalling every detail of the scene, just as
I had imagined it when, seated under the vine, in the cool patio of his
house, in the ancient Kasbah at Algiers, he had told me a story that
held me breathless and entranced.
Worn with fatigue, exhausted and feverish from long exposure to the
fiery sun, half stifled by the sand-laden wind, and riding a camel
scarcely less jaded than myself, I confess that, despite my love of
adventure, and by reason of the strangeness of the story I had heard, I
contemplated with no little dread the prospect of passing that night
alone within sight of those twin mountain-crests. Twilight is brief in
the desert, and soon the moon, having risen from behind a bank of cloud,
afforded an uncertain light, which partly illuminated the prospect, and
I sat hugging my knees and thinking deeply until sleep closed my eyes.
Before the appearance of the first saffron streak that heralds the sun's
coming, I had recited a _sura_ and mounted, with my face set resolutely
towards the unknown range. In the skin across my saddle I had only just
sufficient water to enable me to return to our ambush, therefore I broke
not my fast, determined to hoard up my frugal store. The sand was soft
and treacherous. At every step my camel's spongy feet sank deeper and
deeper, until, after a toilsome ride of three hours, we arrived near the
foot of the two dark, ominous-looking mountains. Then I pulled up,
fearing to proceed further lest we should be overwhelmed by the
quicksands.
Near me was a narrow pass between the two mountains, and shading my eyes
with my hand, I was startled at beholding two gigantic figures standing
on either side of the entrance. The sight of them confirmed my
suspicion that I had approached the Unknown, and with curiosity aroused,
I urged my _meheri_ still forward, coming at last close up to the
colossal figures. They were fashioned from enormous blocks of dark grey
stone, ten times the height of a human being. One, carved to represent
a beautiful woman, had her right hand lifted towards the sky, while the
other, a forbidding-looking hag, with chipped, time-worn face still
wearing a repulsive expression, pointed downward. Between these
colossal figures was a space of about thirty paces. According to the
legend related by the sage Essoyouti, and told by our story-tellers
through ages, there existed beyond a land forbidden.
I held my breath. I was about to view a country that had not been
viewed; the ravine known in story as the Valley of the Ants. In
eagerness I pressed onward, leading my camel, and passing up the stony
valley until at length I came to a second and more fertile space of vast
extent, covered entirely by the colossal ruins of a forgotten city.
Aghast, I stood gazing upon the remarkable and unexpected scene.
Ruined temples, with long rows of broken columns, and great houses
cracked and fallen into decay, stood silent and deserted, grim, grey
relics of a glorious past. Here and there obelisks and colossi still
stood, and the broad streets of the giant city were everywhere
well-defined by the ruins, half-buried by drifting sand on either side.
Above, a single eagle soared high in the heavens, the only sign of life
in that once populous and magnificent centre of a lost civilisation.
Having tethered my camel, I started forward through the ocean of soft
sand that through centuries had drifted over the place, and as I did so
the story of old Essoyouti recurred to me. The appearance of the place
agreed with the strange legend in almost every detail. The ruler of
this gigantic capital had been Balkis, the wealthy and luxurious queen
mentioned in our Book of Everlasting Will. This was actually the city
of Saba, once the wealthiest and most magnificent capital in the world.
According to the legend of the sages, this place existed somewhere in
the Great Desert, but whereabouts no man had been able to determine,
although it was believed that its entrance was between two cone-like
mountains, but surrounded by quicksands of so treacherous a nature that
none dare approach it.
With hurried footsteps I scrambled on over fallen columns and great
blocks of hewn stone, with inscriptions in characters unknown to me,
until suddenly my eyes were bewildered at beholding on the mountain-side
an enormous palace, with beautiful terraces and pavilions, apparently in
an excellent state of preservation. From the city it was approached by
a long flight of wide stone steps, flanked on either side by a pair of
colossal figures of similar design to those at the entrance of the
Valley of the Ants.
At first, I doubted that the scene before me was one of actual reality,
but having reassured myself that I was not dreaming, and was entirely in
possession of my senses, I gripped my long lance firmly, and started to
ascend the thousand steps that gave access to the historic palace of
Balkis. Hardly, however, had I placed my foot upon the first step, when
my eyes were blinded by a lightning-flash, and my ears deafened by a
crash of thunder, that, shaking the earth, resounded among the hills,
until it became lost in innumerable echoes.
I halted in suspicion, puzzled to account for the strange phenomenon,
which seemed like some ominous warning.
Nothing daunted, however, I sprang up the steps, two by two, halting but
once to regain breath, and in a few minutes entered the great,
marvellously-sculptured portals of the magnificent dwelling-place of one
of the most powerful and beautiful women the world ever knew. About to
enter, my footsteps were suddenly arrested by the discovery that the
floor of the palace was of running water, wherein fish disported
themselves, and in the centre, raised upon a dais of ivory and gold, was
the great empty throne of Balkis, constructed entirely of chalcedony,
amethysts, and rubies.
The extent of my discoveries entranced me. I twisted up my robe, and
prepared to wade through the water, when, on setting foot into it, I
discovered to my amazement that the floor was of transparent glass, laid
over the running water, thus keeping the palace uniformly cool during
the hottest hours. On approaching the throne I at once became aware of
its enormous value, and with my poignard prised from its setting one of
the largest rubies my eyes had ever beheld. It was the size of a
pigeon's egg, and of matchless colour.
Through the wonderful courts of the deserted palace I wandered, amazed
at every turn. Of gigantic proportions, with strange grotesque
embellishments that clearly showed its ancient origin, it had stood here
in the zenith of its magnificence ages before the days of the Prophet,
and for many centuries had remained hidden from the sight of man within
that unknown valley. From the flat roof of one of its pavilions I stood
gazing down upon the once mighty city, trying to reconstruct it in my
imagination, and endeavouring to form an idea of its aspect in the
long-past days, when the hosts of Balkis went forth to battle, and when
the beautiful queen herself flashed forth in her golden chariot, amid
the wild plaudits of the multitude.
Many hours I spent in exploring this wonderful relic of a decayed
civilisation, visiting pavilion after pavilion and finding most of them
knee-deep in the accumulated dust of ages, until at last I came to a
small chamber built right against the side of the mountain. This I
entered, finding traces of the most extravagant luxury within. The
decorations were richly ornamented with gold even now untarnished, the
beams supporting the roof being set with gems which sparkled where a ray
of sunlight fell upon them. Beyond was a door which, on examination,
proved to be of solid iron. On dragging it open there was disclosed a
small, dark, and cavernous burrow into the mountain-side. Minutely I
examined this door, and finding thereon great bolts with sockets sunk
deeply into the solid rock, it occurred to me that in this place might
be hidden some of the treasure that the Koran tells us was possessed by
the great Queen Balkis. Cupidity prompted me to search, and having
constructed a large improvised torch, I propped open the door with a
huge stone sculptured to represent a lion's paw, and started forward up
the narrow gloomy tunnel. The natural sides of the cavern were rough,
gleaming with long pendant stalactites; but soon it grew larger, and the
air became so warm that the perspiration fell from my brow in big drops.
One or two articles, old cross-hilted swords, a rusty, dinted helmet
and a battered breastplate, showed that this place had long ago been
frequented, therefore I pressed forward eagerly, hoping to discover that
which would render me wealthy. The increasing heat within the cavern
surprised me; nevertheless I went forward, my torch held high above my
head, my eyes eagerly strained into the impenetrable gloom, and my feet
stumbling ever and anon over the uneven ground, until suddenly a harsh
grinding noise fell upon my ears, and next second a crushing blow fell
full upon my skull, felling me like a log and rendering me unconscious.
How long I remained in that dark stifling tunnel I have no idea.
When, slowly and painfully, I opened my eyes I found that my veil had
been removed, my brow deftly bandaged, and my fevered head was resting
upon a woman's cool hand. A soft feminine voice gave me "Peace," and
turning I saw by the light of a burning brazier that my companion was a
girl of wondrous beauty. Her face was of the pure Arab type, her
complexion white as those of the Englishwomen who come to Biskra at
Ramadan; her little skull-cap was thickly embroidered with seed-pearls,
and her bracelets and anklets, set with beautiful diamonds, gleamed with
a thousand iridescent fires at each movement. At first I fancied myself
dreaming, but when at length I entirely recovered consciousness, I
recognised that we were together in a small apartment hung with heavy
hangings of thick dark crimson stuffs. The golden perfuming-pan
diffused an intoxicating odour of attar of roses, and the silken couch
whereon I reclined was soft, restful, and spacious.
Turning to my companion who, instantly divining my longing, handed me
water in a crystal goblet, I enquired where I was.
"Thou art with a friend," she answered. "Thou hast dared to enter the
City of the Seven Shadows bent on plunder, and the wrath hath fallen
upon thee."
"Didst thou discover me?" I asked, raising myself upon my elbow, and
looking at her.
She nodded, and with bent head sat with her luminous dark eyes fixed
upon the ground.
"Thou hast entered this, the city upon which the seven lights of the
heavens have cast the shadows of their wrath, and where all who enter
are accursed," she exclaimed at last, speaking slowly and impressively.
"Thou earnest hither with evil intent, to secure the treasure of Balkis.
Yet out of evil cometh good, for in thee I have found a companion in
adversity."
"In adversity!" I echoed. "What art thou?"
"I am Balkis, sole lineal descendant of the great queen who ruled over
Saba, and guardian of her treasure," she answered. "I am a queen
without court; a ruler without people. The palace that thou hast
inspected is mine; the throne from the arm of which thou hast filched
the great ruby is my lonely seat of royalty; for I am queen of a dead
city. Although I am bearer of the historic name of Balkis, and possess
treasure of greater worth than men have ever dreamed, my subjects number
only fourteen persons, all of whom are my relatives and live here with
me in this my palace. As thou hast already seen, our once-powerful city
with its fifty brazen gates hath fallen into decay because of the curse
placed upon it by Allah. The teeming populace that once crowded its
thoroughfares and market-places have dwindled down until mine own family
only are left, the last of a long illustrious, world-famed line. Soon,
alas! I, too, shall pass into the grave, and the royal house of Balkis
will become extinct," and her jewel-laden breast rose and fell slowly in
a long deep-drawn sigh.
"Why speakest thou in tone so melancholy?" I asked. "Thou hast youth,
health, long life, everything before thee!"
"No," she answered gravely, with her white pointed chin still resting
thoughtfully upon her palm. "Already I am threatened; nay, I am
doomed."
"How?" I enquired, incredulously.
"Listen, and I will explain," she said, slowly, raising her beautiful
eyes to mine. "About two moons ago, attired in the _haick_ of an Arab
woman, I journeyed with my aged uncle to In Salah, in order to make
purchases in the market, as is our custom twice each year. On our
return hither we came across an encampment of those red-legged dogs of
French, and having accepted the hospitality of their tents through
several days on account of the sand-storms, I was surprised and annoyed
by receiving a declaration of love from the young lieutenant in charge,
whose name was Victor Gaillard, and whose home, he told me, was in
Paris. Believing me to be daughter of an Arab merchant, he announced
his readiness to take me to Algiers and make me his wife; but hating
these youthful irresponsible masters of our land, I declined that
honour. He then declared that at all costs I should be his, for at the
end of the year he was going north to the seashore, where he would be
quartered until the spring, and that if I escaped him he and his host
who ruled the Desert would treat me and my people as rebellious, and
shoot us down like dogs. I laughed his declaration to scorn, for he
little dreamed of my real name, birth, and dwelling-place. Next day I
remained in the encampment, but on the following night, by bribing one
of the Spahi sentries with a ring from my finger, I and my uncle managed
to escape, and, beneath the crescent moon, pushed our way forward in the
direction of Saba. Through four days we travelled almost incessantly,
until at midnight on the fifth our camels' feet sank deep into the
quicksands that render the entrance to Saba unapproachable. Laughing as
I congratulated myself on my cleverness at outwitting him, I had gone
some hundred paces when, chancing to glance back, I saw not far away,
hesitating at the edge of the treacherous belt of ground, a single
horseman. The glint of moonlight on his bright scabbard showed him to
be an officer of the Roumis, and instantly I recognised the slim
silhouette of Victor Gaillard. He sat motionless in his saddle, and
with his field-glass raised calmly watched our difficult progress
towards the two colossal statues which have guarded the entrance to our
city from the day of King Solomon. My uncle, noticing my alarm, also
turned and detected our pursuer. That night, before my family assembled
in the palace, I explained the whole of the facts, and they, knowing how
relentless are these harsh infidel rulers of ours, unanimously decided
upon flight. But I declined to leave. Was I not Balkis, Queen of Saba?
Was not the great store of gold and jewels given into my keeping that I
should remain and watch them until I drew my last breath? They urged me
to accompany them into the mountains, but finding me obdurate all fled,
leaving me alone to face the unscrupulous man who had declared that at
all costs I should become his wife. Ten weary anxious days have since
gone by. Yesterday thou earnest hither, thy face wrapped in thy black
_litham_, and naturally I supposed thou wert the accursed infidel in
disguise. I watched thee explore my palace and enter to the cave
wherein my treasure lieth concealed. When thou hadst entered I breathed
more freely, full well knowing that thou hadst gone forward into thy
grave."
"How? Is the tunnel azotic?"
"No. Within is an ingenious mechanical contrivance which was
constructed by Balkis herself, whereby the unsuspecting intruder
releases a spring, and is struck down by a great iron mace."
"I was struck," I observed.
She nodded, smiling sadly.
"When I went forward to ascertain whether mine enemy still lived I found
thy veil unloosened, and that thy features were not those of the hateful
Frank. Then I tended thee throughout the night, and at dawn thou didst
rally and art now rapidly recovering."
"Of a verity I had a narrow escape."
"Assuredly thou didst. Many others, as adventurous and stout-hearted as
thyself, have met their fate at that spot."
"So thou hast remained here alone and single-handed to guard the
treasure of thine ancestor against the pilfering of the Franks?" I
said, regarding the beautiful, frail-looking girl with admiration.
"Assuredly thou art as courageous as the great Balkis who defied the
combined powers of the ancient world."
She sighed. "It hath been the duty of the Queens of Saba to remain
within their kingdom even if evil threatened and all forsake them. I
will never be wife of a Frank, neither will I exhibit fear to these new
rulers of the Desert who are led by amorous youths from Paris
boulevards," she answered, drawing herself up with queenly hauteur.
"Peradventure he only useth idle threats," I observed.
"No. The Franks who conquered Algeria and hold it beneath the thraldom
of the religion they call Christianity, are our rulers also. He ordered
me to remain in the encampment on pain of being outlawed. I disobeyed;
therefore I and my people are rebels. That he will return and seek me
out I am convinced."
"Then why not fly?" I suggested. "I will take thee to where my tribe,
are encamped. Although we are thieves and brigands, thou, a woman, wilt
nevertheless meet with chivalrous treatment at our hands."
She shook her head, and with dogged persistence announced her intention
of remaining, while, on my part, I promised to render her whatever
assistance lay in my power.
"Then first help me to remove the throne into the treasure-house," she
said, and opening a door that had been concealed behind the heavy
hangings she led me into the great hall where water flowed beneath its
pavement of glass.
Together we dragged the bejewelled seat of royalty through several
courts, until we came to the small pavilion which gave entrance to the
cavern. Then, while she carried a flaming flambeau, I toiled on with it
after her. When we had gone some distance into the heart of the
mountain she stooped to secure the ancient mechanism so that the iron
mace could not again descend, and advancing some further distance we
found ourselves in a kind of _cul-de-sac_, with only a black wall of
rock before us. To the right, however, was a cunningly-concealed door
which gave entrance to a spacious natural chamber, wherein I saw, heaped
indiscriminately, the most wondrous collection of golden ornaments and
brilliant jewels my eyes had ever gazed upon. Some of them I took up,
holding them in my hand in wonderment. The gems were of the first
water, the spoils taken in battle by the notorious queen once feared by
all the world, while heaped everywhere were bejewelled breast-plates,
gem-encrusted goblets, golden dishes, and swords with hilts and
scabbards thickly set with precious stones. Wheresoever I trod there
were scattered in the fine white dust strings of pearls, uncut gems,
rings, and ear-ornaments, while all around were piled great immovable
boxes of hewn stone, like coffins, securely clamped with rusting iron.
These had never been opened, and contained, according to the story of my
companion, the tribute of enormous worth sent by King Solomon to Balkis.
These I examined carefully, one after another, at length discovering
one, the stone of which had split so that a small aperture was formed.
I placed my hand inside and withdrew it, holding between my thumb and
finger three cut diamonds, the like of which I had never before beheld.
The stone box was filled to the brim with gems of every kind.
In wonderment I was standing, contemplating this vast wealth of a
vanished nation, when my fair conductress exclaimed--
"There is still one other marvel about this place. Listen! Canst thou
hear a sound?"
Distinctly I heard a dull, monotonous boom, which had continued
uninterruptedly ever since we had been there.
"Yea. What is its cause?" I asked.
"The interior of this mountain is as a fiery furnace. That roaring is
the unquenchable flame that has burned therein through ages. During
mine own remembrance as a child smoke hath issued from the cone above,
and so near are we to the fiery interior here in this treasure-house
that its very walls are warm."
Upon the rock I placed my hand, and so hot was it that I was compelled
to withdraw it instantly. Only a thin partition of stone apparently
divided us from the mysterious fathomless crater.
"One of the beliefs that have come down unto me through ages," Balkis
said, "is that within this place is Al-Hawiyat, the dwelling prepared
for infidels and pagans, where their food shall be offal, and they shall
slake their thirst with boiling pitch."
"Allah is mighty and wise," I answered. "Alone he knoweth the hearts of
his servants. May perfect peace remain ever upon thee."
"And upon thee, O Ahamadou," she responded, raising her bright eyes
earnestly to mine. "Now that I have shown thee this, the wealth of my
ancestors, thou wilt promise never to conspire to gain possession of it
while any of my family remain here in Saba."
"Although of a tribe of thieves, I swear by Allah's might that never
will I expose thy secret, nor will I seek to possess myself of what is
thine," I answered. "Thy family shall ever be as mine, for I am no
abuser of the salt."
"In thee do I place my trust," she answered, allowing her soft hand, the
hand that had so deftly bandaged my injured brow and bathed my face--to
linger for an instant within my grasp.
Then, drawing from my pouch the great lustrous ruby I had stolen, I
handed it back to her. But she made me retain it as _souvenir_ of my
visit to Saba, the city forgotten.
The atmosphere in the treasure-house was stifling. Having, therefore,
deposited the throne of Balkis in fitting place, we left, returning
through the concealed door to the narrow burrow which had exit in the
small pavilion. Side by side we slowly crossed court after court of the
great palace which had witnessed pageants of such magnificence that
their splendour has been proverbial till this day, she pointing out the
principal objects of interest, halting to explain curious sculptured
wall-pictures and inscriptions commemorating the triumphs of the great
queen, or pausing to recall some long-forgotten story of love, hatred,
or malice connected with the spot whereon we stood. In that mellow
sunset-hour, as we lingered together beneath the cool shadows, I learnt
more of the historic, time-effaced empire of Balkis than savants have
ever known. As scholar, it delighted me to hear it from the lips of one
who had descended in the direct royal line from that famous woman, who,
according to our Sura, entitled "The Ant," became convinced during her
visit to Solomon that, by worshipping the sun she had dealt unjustly
with her own soul, and resigned herself unto Allah, the lord of all
creatures.
She had given me some wine and dates, and we had passed through the
great hall with its transparent pavement and out upon the terrace before
the palace when, of a sudden, a loud cry escaped her.
"See!" she gasped, dismayed. "See! The Franks are here!"
Next second a hulking Zouave who had secreted himself behind one of the
great sculptured columns sprang upon her. She uttered a loud scream;
but, ere he could secure her hands, I had drawn my poignard and dealt
him an unerring blow, causing him to reel and fall back heavily upon the
stones.
A dozen soldiers, headed by Victor Gaillard, their evil-faced,
narrow-browed, moustached officer in his gold-laced uniform and
cherry-coloured trousers, had nearly gained the top of the steps. But
the ugly sight of blood had already unnerved my fair companion, who,
turning quickly to me, cried--
"Let us fly! Follow me. There is but one way to escape."
She rushed away, and I followed, our pursuers close at our heels. I no
longer wore my black _litham_, therefore the elegant youth from Paris,
sent by the French to rule the Dwellers of the Desert, could not have
been aware that I was a Touareg, one of the bandits of the Azjar, whom
he amused himself by hunting when inclined for sport. Onward we sped,
crossing court after court, until we again entered the subterranean
burrow, and groping along it in the darkness, my companion found at last
another secret door, which she opened, pushed me into it, and entering
herself, closed it. Then we listened. There was no sound. Apparently
our pursuers had not dared to follow us there.
"This," she explained beneath her breath, "leadeth by a secret way out
upon the mountain-side. We may yet escape."
Upward we toiled in a tunnel so narrow that ofttimes we were compelled
to crawl upon hands and knees, yet ever ascending, and feeling our way,
we at last, after half an hour's frantic effort, saw a faint glimmer of
light above, and succeeded in emerging upon the bare rocky side of the
giant mountain.
"Let us mount still higher and pass along to the other side," she urged.
"I know the path."
Together we started off in the fast falling gloom, when suddenly I heard
an exclamation in French, and, looking down, saw Gaillard, with three of
his Zouaves below us, scrambling up as quickly as they were able.
Instantly I saw that their further progress was barred by a sheer cliff
of rock quite fifty feet in height, and that we were in a position
impregnable. Balkis, noticing our situation, also turned towards him
with a low scornful laugh.
Next instant the fierce uncurbed anger of this young _boulevardier_
found vent, for, with a loud imprecation in French he declared that she
should never escape him, and ere I could divine his intention he had
snatched a rifle from the man standing at his side and covered the woman
he had desired to marry.
I sprang quickly towards my fellow-fugitive; but ere I could drag her
down to earth, our only cover, there was a flash, a loud report, and
Balkis, with a shrill shriek, stumbled forward mortally wounded, and
rolling helplessly down the mountain-side, fell dead almost at the very
feet of her brutal murderer.
The gold-braided officer laughed.
It was one of the most heartless assassinations I had ever witnessed,
but knowing that efforts would undoubtedly be made to shoot me also, I
threw myself upon my stomach and crawled upward quickly with hands and
toes.
"See, men; I have brought down the dainty little bird!" I heard
Gaillard exclaim, as he walked to where the body was lying crumpled in a
heap. "Give me her necklaces and bracelets. The rest of her jewels you
may divide. She was merely a rebel. It is our duty to repress revolt,
even though we may sometimes be compelled to shoot women."
The Zouaves ruthlessly tore the jewels from the body of the last
remaining daughter of the Queen of Saba, while their lieutenant amused
himself by firing at me. A dozen shots he sent after me, but all the
bullets sang over my head, until at last, when the darkness became
complete, I halted, breathless, behind a projection of rock, and there
waited, watching from my elevated position the camp fires lighted, and
the soldiers exploring the deserted ruins by the aid of flambeaux.
Once during the night I thought I heard a noise like thunder, and
distinctly felt the mountain tremble. But soon after dawn I had the
satisfaction of seeing our enemies strike their camp and march slowly
out towards the plain. The few jewels they found about the palace they
had divided among themselves, and were apparently in high glee.
Having remained in hiding three hours after their departure I descended,
passing the body of the hapless Balkis, already surrounded by a
screaming crowd of grey vultures, and, re-entering the palace to
ascertain the extent of the depredations of the Franks, I was amazed to
discover a dense black smoke issuing from the pavilion before the mouth
of the cave. I tried to advance, but sulphurous fumes almost overcame
me. Instantly I discerned the truth. The thin partition of rock which
divided the treasure-house from the burning crater within had been
broken through, and the suppressed fire of the volcano was issuing in
great volume from the burrow, together with quantities of molten lava
and ashes which have since entirely overwhelmed the ruins.
Three years afterwards I had occasion to travel to Algiers to see
Gaillard, then raised to a responsible position in the Bureau Arabe,
regarding a Zouave whom we had captured and afterwards set free. I
casually mentioned the buried ruins of the forgotten City of the Seven
Shadows at the spot he knew so well, but he merely replied--
"Ah! yes, I know. I once explored them and found a curious cave there
in the side of the mountain. I blew it up with dynamite in order that
it should not be used as a hiding-place by any of your veiled tribe.
The explosion, however, much to our dismay, opened a suppressed volcano,
with the result that fire issued forth, killing all six of our men who
performed the work."
Victor Gaillard, although now a Colonel, and back in his beloved Paris,
where he sits in the Chamber of Deputies as representative of a
constituency in the Alpes Maritimes, does not know that by the
irresponsible use of his explosive he lost for ever the greatest
collection of gold and jewels that has ever been brought together.
The only single gem of the vast treasure of Balkis that has been
preserved is the magnificent blood-red ruby which at this moment adorns
my sword-hilt. In both colour and size it is matchless. Never can I
handle that weapon without reflecting upon its tragic story, or without
visions rising to my eyes of the beautiful queen who reigned so briefly
over her vanished and forgotten kingdom.