On a journey alone from Biskra to Mourzouk, in Fezzan, I foolishly
disregarded the injunctions of my fellow tribesmen, and was rendered
extremely uncomfortable by the astounding discovery that the camel
caravan I had joined in Zaouia Timassanin, and with which I had been
travelling for twenty days, belonged to the Kel-Izhaban, a tribe of
marauders and outlaws with whom we had had for years a fierce
blood-feud, and whose depredations and relentless butchery of their
weaker neighbours caused them to be held in awe from Morocco across to
Tripoli, and from Biskra to Lake Tsad. In addition, I ascertained that
the Sheikh, known to me as Sidi El-Adil, or "The Just," was really none
other than Abdul-Melik, like myself, a pirate of the desert, against
whom the French Government had sent three expeditions, and upon whose
head a price had been set.
With bronzed, aquiline features, long grey beard, and keen, deep-set
eyes; tall, erect, agile, and of commanding presence, he was a splendid
specimen of the true-bred Arab of the plains. Though he expressed
intense hatred for the Infidel, and invoked curses most terrible upon
the horsemen of the Roumis in general, and those of the Azjar in
particular, he, nevertheless, treated me with haughty courtesy, and
extended to me the hand of friendship. As, at the head of our cavalcade
of two hundred armed horsemen and a long string of camels, he rode day
by day across the parched wilderness, interspersed by small sand-hills
and naked ledges of rock, speckled with ethel-bushes half overwhelmed by
sand, he was truly an imposing figure. His burnouse was of finest white
wool, embroidered heavily with silk; the haick surrounding his face was
of spotless china-silk, and around his head was wound many yards of
brown camel's hair. The saddle upon which he sat was of crimson velvet,
embroidered with gold and set with precious stones, and stirrups and
spurs of massive silver completed the trappings of his splendid
coal-black horse, which he managed with rare perfection and skill. On
my white Ku-hai-lan stallion, I usually rode at his side, chatting to
him in his own tongue, while two hundred of his people, erect in their
saddles, and with their long-barrelled rifles slung behind, were ready
to instantly execute his slightest wish.
The days were breathless and blazing. Scorched by the sun, and
half-suffocated by the sand-laden wind, our way lay through a wilderness
that Nature had forsaken. At night, however, when the outlaws of the
desert had cast sand upon their feet and prayed their _maghrib_, and we
had encamped under the palms of the oasis, eaten our dates and
kouss-kouss, and slaked our thirst from our water-skins, then commenced
the real luxury of the day--the luxury of idleness--as, reclining on a
mat in front of the Sheikh's tent, with coffee and a cigarette, the
great Abdul-Melik would relate with slow distinctness stories of past
encounters between his people and the hated Christians.
While sentries with loaded rifles kept a vigilant look-out lest we
should be surprised by the ever-watchful Spahis or Chasseurs, half--a--
dozen Arabs would squat in a semicircle before the great Sheikh, and,
twanging upon their queer little banjos fashioned from tortoise-shells
over which skin is stretched, would chant weirdly, in a strange
staccato, Arab songs of love and war. At that hour a coolness falls
over everything, intense silence reigns, the sky above grows a deeper
and deeper blue, and the palms and talha trees look mysterious in the
half-light. Soon the stars shine out like diamond points, and it grows
darker and darker, until the chill night-breeze of the desert stirs the
feathery heads of the date-palms. Then the lawless nomads, my
companions, would wrap their burnouses closely about them, scoop out a
hole in the warm sand, and there repose until the first flush of dawn.
About five weeks after I had inadvertently thrown in my lot with the
Kel-Izhaban, and after penetrating a region that, as far as I am aware,
has never been explored by Europeans--for it remains a blank upon the
most recent map issued by the French Depot de la Guerre--we were one
evening, at a spot evidently pre-arranged, joined by a body of three
hundred horsemen, who armed themselves with the rifles they obtained
from our camel's packs, and then, leaving the camels in charge of
half-a-dozen men in a rocky valley called the Anzoua, we all continued
our way in high spirits, jesting, laughing, and singing snatches of
songs. Throughout that night, and during the following day, we rode at
the same steady pace, with only brief halts that were absolutely
necessary. On the second night darkness fell swiftly, but the moon
rose, and under its bright mystic light we sped forward, until suddenly
the gaunt man, in a dirty, ragged burnouse, who acted as our guide,
shouted, and we pulled up quickly. Then, in the moonlight, I could just
distinguish among the trees of the little oasis a few low, white houses,
of what I subsequently learned was the little desert village of Tilouat,
inhabited by the Kel-Emoghri, and distant ten leagues from the town of
Ideles.
Abdul-Melik shouted an order, clear and distinct, whereupon the horsemen
spread themselves out in two long lines, and with their guns carried
across their saddles, the first line crept slowly and silently forward.
By this movement I knew that we were about to attack the village, and
held my own rifle ready for purposes of self-defence. Sitting in the
second line, I advanced with the others, and the breathless moments that
followed were full of excitement.
Suddenly a shot startled us, and at the same moment a muttered curse
fell from the Sheikh's lips as he saw that our presence had been
detected, for the shot had been fired in the village as a sound of
warning. Almost instantly it was apparent that we had been betrayed,
for a great body of horsemen galloped out to meet us, and in a few
moments I found myself lying behind my horse pouring forth volley after
volley from my rifle.
The fusillade was deafening, and for fully half an hour it was kept up.
About twenty of our men had been killed or wounded, when suddenly the
first line rose with loud shouts as if they were one man, and, mounting,
rode straight at their opponents, while we followed at headlong speed
upon our enemies almost ere they had time to realise our intention. The
melee was awful. Swords, rifles, and keen, crooked _jambiyahs_ were
used with terrible effect, but very soon all resistance was at an end,
and the work of looting the village commenced.
Half demented by excitement and success, my companions entered the
houses, shot down the women with relentless cruelty, tore from them what
little jewellery they possessed, and plundered, wrecked, and burned
their homes out of sheer delight in destruction. I stood watching the
terrible scene, but unable to avert the great calamity that had fallen
so swiftly upon the peaceful little place. The fiendishness of our
enemies had, alas! not been exaggerated. Abdul-Melik laughed gleefully,
uttering some words as he rode past me swift as the wind. But I heeded
him not; I loathed, despised, and hated him.
While dawn spread in rosy streaks, the work of plunder still proceeded,
but when the sun shone forth, only the smoke-blackened walls of Tilouat
remained standing. The plunder was quickly packed upon our horses, and
soon afterwards we rode off, carrying with us twenty men and women who
had been captured, all of whom would eventually find their way into the
great slave-market, far away at Mourzouk.
At sundown, five days afterwards, we descended into a rocky valley, and
suddenly came upon a wonderful mass of scattered ruins, of amazing
magnitude and extent, which Abdul-Melik told me were the remains of a
forgotten city called Tihodayen, and as we approached, I saw by the
massive walls of hewn stone, the fallen columns half embedded in the
sand, and by an inscription over an arched door, that they were relics
of the Roman occupation. When we dismounted, I found that the ruined
city gave shelter to the outlaws, and was their habitual hiding-place.
An hour later, reclining on mats under the wall of what had once been a
great palace, the outlaw Sheikh and myself ate our evening meal of
_saubusaj, beryseh_, and _luzinyeh_, and drank copiously of _dushab_,
that luscious date-syrup which is so acceptable after the heat and
burden of the Saharan day, while my companions feasted and made merry,
for it appeared that they kept stores of food concealed there.
On commencing to smoke, Abdul-Melik ordered that the captives should be
brought before him, and when, a few minutes later, they were ushered
into his presence, they, with one exception, fell upon their knees,
grovelled, and cried aloud for mercy. The single captive who begged no
favour was a young, dark-haired girl of exquisite beauty, with black,
piercing eyes, pretty, dimpled cheeks, and a complexion of almost
European fairness. She wore a zouave of crimson velvet heavily
embroidered with gold, a heavy golden girdle confined her waist, and her
wide trousers were of palest rose-pink silk, while her tiny feet were
thrust into velvet slippers of green embroidered with gold thread. But
her dress had been torn in the fierce struggle with her pitiless
captors, and as she stood, erect and defiant, with her hands secured
behind her with a leathern thong, she cast at us a glance full of
withering scorn.
The Sheikh raised his hand to command silence, but as her
fellow-captives continued wailing, he ordered the removal of all but
this girl, who apparently set him at defiance. Turning his keen eyes
upon her, he noted how extremely handsome she was, and while she
returned his gaze unflinchingly, her beauty held me in fascination. In
all my journeys in the Land of the Sun I had never before seen such an
absolutely perfect face.
"Who art thou?" demanded the dreaded chief, roughly. "What is thy
name?"
"I am called Khadidja Fathma, daughter of Ali Ben Ushshami, cadi of
Ideles," she answered, in a firm, defiant tone.
"Ali Ben Ushshami!" echoed Abdul-Melik, knitting his brows fiercely.
"Thou art his daughter; the daughter of the accursed son of offal who
endeavoured to betray me into the hands of the Roumis," he cried,
exultantly. "I have kindled the lights of knowledge at the flambeau of
prophecy, and I vowed that I would ere many moons seek vengeance."
"I have anticipated this thy wrath ever since thine horde of cowardly
ruffians laid hands upon me," she answered, with a contemptuous toss of
her pretty head. "But the daughter of the cadi of Ideles craveth not
mercy from a servant of Eblis."
"Darest thou insult me, wench?" he cried, pale with passion, and
starting up as if to strike her. "Thou art the child of the man who
would have given me into the hands of the Spahis for the sake of the two
bags of gold offered for my head. I will return his good offices by
sending him to-morrow a present he will perhaps appreciate, the present
of thine own hands. He will then be convinced that Abdul-Melik knoweth
how to repay those who seek to injure him."
"Dost thou intend to strike off my hands?" she gasped, pale as death,
nevertheless making a strenuous effort to remain calm.
"At sunrise the vultures will feast upon thee, and thine hands will be
on their way to Ideles," he answered, with a sinister smile playing
about his hard mouth.
"Malec hath already set his curse upon thee," she said, "and by each
murder thou committest so thou createst for thyself a fresh torture in
Al-Hawiyat, where thy food will be offal and thou wilt slake thy thirst
with boiling pitch. True, I have fallen captive into thine hands,
having journeyed to Tilouat to see my father's mother who was dying; but
thinkest thou that I fear thee? No!" she added with flashing eyes.
"Though the people dread thee as the great and powerful Chief, I despise
thee and all thy miserable parasites. If thou smitest off mine hands,
it is but the same punishment as thou hast meted out to others of my
sex. Thou art, after all, a mere coward who maketh war upon women."
"Silence, jade!" he cried, in a tumult of passion, and, turning to the
men beside him, commanded: "Take her away, secure her alone till dawn,
and then let her hands be struck off and brought to me."
Roughly the men dragged her away, but ere she went she cast at us a look
of haughty scornfulness, and, shrugging her shoulders, treated this
terrible mandate with ineffable disdain.
"The jade's hands shall be sent to her father, the Cadi, as a souvenir
of the interest he taketh in my welfare," the Sheikh muttered aloud.
"Her tongue will never again utter rebuke or insult. Verily, Allah hath
delivered her into my hands a weapon to use against mine enemies."
I uttered eager words of intercession, pointing out the cruelty of
taking her young life, but he only laughed derisively, and I was
compelled to sit beside him while the other captives were questioned and
inspected.
That night I sought repose in a shed that had been erected in a portion
of the ruins, but found sleep impossible. The defiantly beautiful face
of the young girl who was to die at dawn kept recurring to me with
tantalising vividness, and at length I rose, determined if possible to
save her. Noiselessly I crept out, my footsteps muffled by the sand,
saddled one of Abdul-Melik's own horses, and without attracting the
notice of either sentry on duty at each end of the encampment, I entered
the ruin where, confined to an iron ring in the masonry by a leathern
band, she crouched silent and thoughtful.
"_Fi amani-illah_!" I whispered, as I approached. "I come to have
speech with thee, and assist thee to escape."
"Art thou a friend?" she inquired, struggling to her feet and peering at
me in the gloom.
"Yes, one who is determined that the outlaw's command shall never be
executed," and taking the _jambiyah_ from my girdle, I severed the
thongs that confined her hands and ankles, and next second she was free.
Briefly I explained how I had saddled a fleet horse and placed a
saddle-bag with food upon it.
"If I get safely away I shall owe my life to you," she said, with
intense gratitude, pressing my hand for an instant to her quivering
lips. "I know this place, and ere two moons can have risen I can travel
through the rocky defile and be at my father's house in Ideles. Tell me
thy name, so that my father may know who was his daughter's liberator."