The sheik welcomed us cordially, and thanked Edwards for all the kindness that he had shown to his son in Baghdad. Unfortunately, he said, he could not now ask us to partake of his hospitality, as it was absolutely necessary that he and his people should get away at once, to avoid capture at the hands of the Turkish authorities. Sedjur then related to us what had occurred. His father had, the night before, had a brush with a strong party of Shammar, some of whom had been left either dead or wounded on the field, and the fight only ended when it did because of the sudden appearance of a Turkish patrol.
"We must get away immediately," concluded Sedjur, "but my father and I hope that some day, when things are quieter, we shall be able to show you and your friend true desert hospitality. You will easily find your way back to Hillah, and so to Baghdad, by keeping straight for the high mound yonder, from which you will see the river and the roof-tops of Hillah at no great distance."
"But," replied I, not at all wishing to lose Faris just as we had found him, "my friend the Hakim does not desire to return until he has seen more of the desert. Besides, we might ourselves be captured by the Turkish soldiers, and be forced to betray your whereabouts."
"That would be difficult," laughed Sedjur, "for, look, our women and children are already out of sight, and safe; and, ere the sun has crept up another spear-head in the heavens, our horses will have carried us out of harm's way."
I looked round. The camp had vanished, the tent in which we had slept included. Our horses, with their saddles on, stood hobbled close by. The sheik, standing by his horse, was shading his eyes with one hand, and scanning the horizon.
Suddenly there arose a cry of "Tourki," and with one accord the sheik and his men swung into the saddle, and commenced to move off. Sedjur quickly mounted his mare, and calling to us that he regretted having to leave us thus discourteously, soon caught up the rest of the party, now settling down to a fast canter.
"Well," exclaimed Edwards, turning to me, "they are in a desperate hurry to clear out. I cannot even see the soldiers, can you?"
I looked for some time, and at last, when my eyes had become accustomed to the glare, I thought I could detect some small black objects, like flies, in the far, far distance.
"I think I have spotted them," I answered. "There, miles away to the north-east. Look along my finger."
"Oh, I see them," said Edwards.
"Well," said I, "I suppose we had better wait here till they come up, tell them that it is useless for them to try and catch the wily Arabs, and ride back with them to Hillah, or wherever they come from."
"Not a bit of it," said Edwards excitedly. "We must not meet them. I know the gentlemen; and if they find us here and their quarry gone, they are quite capable of shooting us off-hand as conspirators, and quietly putting us into a hole in the sand. Come on; there's plenty of time."
"Where to?" I asked, as we ran to our horses and mounted.
"After our Arab friends," was the reply. "They are not going any pace as yet."
So we dug our spurs into the flanks of our little beasts, and made them gallop over the baked desert. But gallop as we would, we did not appear to be gaining on our friends, and it seemed to us, on glancing back, that the Turkish troopers were overhauling us. Then, as we looked ahead, we saw the Arab horsemen suddenly disappear.
"Where on earth have they gone?" asked Edwards, turning to me.
"Heaven only knows," I replied, "unless they have got into a watercourse. We shall probably see them come out again in a minute."
We kept our eyes fixed ahead of us as we rode on, but no sign did we see of the reappearance of the party, and before long we discovered the cause. The track brought us to a deep dry watercourse, running almost at right angles to the route that we were following, and there, in the loose sand which formed the bed, we could see the footprints of the horses. We drew rein, and looked at each other, for the horsemen seemed to have gone both ways—up the watercourse and down it.
"Which way?" I asked Edwards.
"Haven't a ghost of an idea," said he.
"Well, it cannot matter very much," said I; "whichever way we go, we shall find some of them. We must trust to luck to take our Turkish pursuers the other way."
So we rode westward in the trough of the nullah, which in places was sunk almost twenty feet below the surrounding country, and which turned and twisted at every fifty yards. For half an hour or more we pressed on, ever looking behind, to see if we were being pursued, until at last we reached a point where a smaller nullah joined the main one, and here again the horsemen had divided, as many going one way as the other.
"This is worse than a paper-chase," said Edwards, drily. "Suppose we give it up, wait for the Turks, and hail them as our friends and deliverers."
As we stood at the junction of the watercourses, debating which one to follow, we suddenly became aware of the presence of a horseman, standing motionless at the bend of the smaller nullah. He beckoned to us, and, on riding up, we found, to our joy, that it was Sedjur himself.
"You were fortunate, Hakim," said he smiling, "in taking the right way. We could not wait for you, for fear of the Turkis. We are all safe enough now, for they never follow the windings of the watercourse, knowing that at any turn they might be ambuscaded. Come along to our tents, and we will make you truly welcome."
The mention of tents was a great relief to both of us, for I at any rate had had visions of travelling day and night for ever so long, and enduring endless privations. Still, the encampment was not as near as I at first imagined, for, although Sedjur described it, with a wave of his hand, as "yonder," it proved to be distant several hours' ride. For a mile or more we followed the bed of the nullah, until it grew too narrow to ride in, when our guide suddenly turned his horse's head up the steep bank. Thence we crossed a wide strip of desolate desert leading gradually up to a sandy ridge, from the summit of which Sedjur pointed out, several miles away, a green patch of vegetation, around which there appeared to be a goodly collection of tents.
"What are all these tents?" I inquired of Sedjur, as we drew near the encampment.
"This is our large camp," he replied, "with all our people and flocks. Where you spent last night was only a ghazu camp, from which my father was making a foray."
We were duly impressed by what we saw before us, and we began to understand that the sheik was a man of some importance. A considerable number of horses, camels, and sheep were grazing on the outskirts of the encampment, and quite two hundred tents lay scattered among the tamarisk and other bushes. On the extreme flank was pitched the somewhat imposing-looking tent of the sheik—large enough, as we afterwards found, to accommodate not only himself and his family, but also two of his mares. In front of the tent, fixed upright in the ground, was his long, gleaming spear, adorned with tufts of black ostrich plumes. As we approached, men came to take our horses, and we were ushered into the audience-room of Faris's tent, where we were received with much ceremony, being reintroduced by Sedjur, as if the sheik had never met us before. This procedure puzzled me at first, but later on I discovered that it was a matter of Bedouin etiquette, as at our previous meeting the sheik had had nothing to offer us. Now we were made welcome to all he possessed, and a special tent was handed over to us.
The conversation was most formal; spiced coffee was handed round, and long pipes were brought in. Then, after a short while, Sedjur relieved our minds by suggesting that we might like to go to our tent and rest, after our long ride. We jumped at the idea, and being warned that we were expected to have supper with the sheik a little before sundown, we sought the seclusion of the goat's-hair dwelling that had been reserved for us.
"Thank goodness," said Edwards, sitting on his saddle-bags, which had been brought into the tent, "that they have given us a place to ourselves. Now let us hold a mass meeting of two, and discuss the whole situation."
"What situation?" I asked.
"Why, yours and mine," said he.
"Right you are," said I. "So far I think we have done pretty well. We have discovered old Faris, and have become his honoured guests. We have only got to persuade him to tell us about the Golden Girdle, and then we shall be as right as rain."
"All very nice," said Edwards. "But suppose it does not come off, what is going to happen? We are miles and miles from anywhere."
"Oh, we will get along. Don't you fret," I replied. "Besides, we are seeing desert life, living with real Bedouins, and all that sort of thing. Do be a bit romantic. But, to be serious, I will take on our host to-night, if we can make him at all communicative; and if we fail to get anything out of him, we will take an affectionate farewell in the morning, and ride back to Hillah. I daresay we are not more than fifty miles away."
"How shall you start the subject?" asked my companion.
"That is the difficulty," said I. "I expect the best way will be to mention Shahzadi and her shoe, and see how the old man takes it."
So we continued to talk and puff at our pipes, until at last Sedjur came and told us that supper was ready. We found that one or two of the headmen of the tribe had been invited to meet us, and after going through the usual ceremonial introductions, we settled down to our meal, Edwards being placed on the right hand of the sheik, I on the left, and Sedjur on the other side of Edwards. It was our first Bedouin feast, and the novelty of everything interested us considerably. A huge copper bowl was brought in and placed in front of us, its steaming contents consisting of a kind of porridge in which lumps of meat and vegetables, some hard-boiled eggs, and dates were concealed. Into this each member of the party plunged his hand, and after the manner of dipping in a bran-pie, brought out a prize in the shape of something to eat. Hunger and the desire to appear au fait in the customs of the desert enabled Edwards and myself to do fair justice to the meal, even without spoons, knives, or forks. Little conversation was indulged in while the eating was in progress, but at length the dish, replenished again and again, had satisfied everyone, and at a signal from Faris we rose, washed our hands, and went and sat outside, to smoke our pipes and chat in the cool evening air.
While at supper I had made a study of our host, and although apparently a reserved and silent man, his quiet dignity and courteous manner made a great impression on me. In appearance he was tall—far above the average Arab height, spare in form, but with broad, square shoulders, which made his flowing robes hang loosely from his body. He was a fair man, and his brown beard as yet showed few white hairs, though his handsome face was weather-beaten, and bore more than one tell-tale scar. His eyes were remarkable, and their actual colour impossible to describe; at times they were the eyes of an eagle—almost golden red, wide open and piercing; then, while he was speaking, they would suddenly change to the soft liquid eyes of a deer, full of tenderness and compassion. As I learned later, the sheik's whole character was discoverable from a study of his eyes.
Puffing at my pipe, I began to think that the time had come when I ought to give our host some idea of our future movements, for I knew that he himself would consider that he would be outraging all the laws of hospitality if he even displayed any curiosity as to our wanderings in the desert. How I was to turn the conversation round to the Golden Girdle I could not see, but I made a beginning by discussing the day's ride, and the relative merits of our horses and the sheik's horses, their paces and staying powers. To my delight I found that the great man gradually unbent, and in a few minutes became voluble. Thinking that I was deeply interested in the subject, he insisted on taking me into his tent to see his two favourite mares, one of whom he fondled, and addressed in the most loving terms.
"She is your favourite, sheik," I said.
"Yes," he replied, "even so. She has carried me in many a bloody fight with the accursed Shammar, and has borne many good colts. Moreover, her grand-dam was my father's much-prized mare, a true Kuhailan, so he always affirmed. He captured her from the Shammar—a fact which I cast in their teeth when I prevail over them by reason of the handiness and swiftness of the mare. She is indeed a bird without wings."
I now had my opening, for of course I remembered what was written in the document wherein mention had been made of the Golden Girdle.
"I have heard of the Kuhailan mare," I remarked quietly.
"Of what mare?" inquired Faris, looking at me intently.
"Shahzadi," I replied, "the daughter of a Kuhailan Haifi, out of the dam Labadah. Was it not so?"
"That indeed was what my father always told me, and the Shammar themselves told him how the mare was bred. How do you, an Ingleezee, know of such matters as these? It may be that you have learned them from the Shammar."
"Not so, Sheik of Sheiks," I replied. "What I know of the mare I have read in my own country."
"Wonder of wonders!" exclaimed Faris. "They speak truly when they say that you Englishmen know everything. Tell me more of what you know."
"I will tell you all I know," I said, "and if you will allow me to go to my tent, I will fetch you a translation of what I believe to be a true document relating to the famous mare, which your father captured from the Shammar."
"You astonish me beyond measure," said the sheik; "be pleased to go and bring the paper."
At that moment the thud of horses' hoofs broke the stillness of the night air, and, thinking that it meant a night attack, I turned to the sheik, who stepped out in front of his tent, and shouted a few words in a deep voice. An answer came back out of the darkness, and then Faris explained to me that the horsemen were those of his party whose duty it had been to lay a false scent for the Turkish police to follow, and who had ridden into camp by a circuitous route.
"For years," said he, "we have done the same thing. On reaching the nullah, some of us go one way and some another. The Turkis fear to follow either party, knowing that if once they enter the nullah, they are liable not only to be ambuscaded by one party but to be taken in rear by the other party. But they are simple folk these town-bred Turkis, and in driving us as far as the nullah, they consider that they have done their duty. So they return to their coffee-houses to drink their coffee and tell their companions how they encountered the Bedouins, and defeated them. Yet, to-morrow, if we wished, we could ride in and pillage half the villages on the outskirts of Hillah. However, the ways of these Turki dogs are of no interest to either you or me, for I know, from my many friends in Baghdad, what you Englishmen think of them. Let us talk again of our horses, and let me hear what you know of Kushki's ancestors."
I went off to my tent, and returned with my note-book, when the sheik took me into his private apartment, and motioned me to a seat on a pile of soft cushions. I showed him the sketch of Shahzadi's shoe, and he at once commented on the eight nail holes. Then I turned to my copy of the document, which, re-translating into Arabic, I read out to my host. He was deeply moved, and drank in every word that I uttered, nodding his head as I concluded each sentence, and vouchsafing that what I said was true. When I came to the last line I hesitated for a second—from excitement, I suppose—but, recovering, I translated leisurely, "The man bore away the serpent belt of pure gold coveted by the desert tribes."
"Quite true," said the sheik. "Everything that you have read is true. But now tell me, was it indeed an accident that brought you and your friend the Hakim to our tents?"
The question came so suddenly, that I confess it quite staggered me. But I felt that the man with whom I was dealing was upright and honest, and I decided that I would meet him on his own ground, and risk the consequences. I stood up and met his gaze.
"Faris-ibn-Feyzul, Sheik of the Jelas Aeniza," I said, "I am an Englishman, and, I trust, a man of honour. Believe me, that in accepting your hospitality, I had no intention of deceiving you. I waited only for an opportunity to speak to you, and that opportunity has now come. It was no accident that brought us to your tents."
I then explained fully the nature of my mission, and how I hoped to be able to obtain from him some information about the Golden Girdle. He listened attentively, and without showing any sign of displeasure. At last he took my hand in his, and spoke solemnly and quietly.
"Friend and honoured guest," he said, "you have spoken to me straightforwardly, and straightforwardly shall I always deal with you. Stay with us as long as you will, and you shall be welcome, but take my advice, and abandon all idea of possessing that accursed belt of gold. Did you but know the havoc that it wrought among the tribes ere it disappeared, you would let it lie for ever in its resting-place. If you would hear more of it, then to-morrow will I tell you what I know, and willingly. To-night we have already talked late."
"What a time you have been," grunted Edwards, as I entered the tent after saying good-night to the sheik. "You have lost all your beauty sleep. I have been in bed for hours."
"Business, my boy," I replied. "I have been having a most interesting talk with Faris."
Edwards sat up wide awake, while I related, as shortly as possible, what our host had told me.
"Do you think I did right," I asked, when I had finished, "in making a clean breast of everything?"
"You could not well have done anything else," he replied. "Both the father and the son are thorough gentlemen. Besides, one cannot humbug these Bedouins; they would see through you at once. I wonder if they really know where your golden treasure is buried. I did not say a word about it to Sedjur, as I was afraid of making a mess of things. By the way, he and his father are going off in the morning to an oasis somewhere or other miles away in the desert, where they have got some brood mares and camels, and he thought we might like the ride with them. So I accepted for both of us. Are you on for it?"
"Of course I am," said I. "I don't let old Faris out of my sight until I have heard what he has to tell about that blessed belt."
Barely a streak of dawn had shown itself in the eastern sky, when Sedjur clamoured at our tent door, shouting to us that it was time that we were up and in the saddle. Silence reigned in the encampment, as we stepped out into the grey morning, to find the sheik and his son already mounted, and awaiting us. An Arab stood close at hand holding the two horses which we were to ride, and the sheik, giving us a friendly greeting, told me that the beasts which he had selected for us were both sons of his favourite Kushki, the fleetest that he possessed, and far better than our own. He and Sedjur we noticed were armed with spear and sword, and before starting they made certain that we carried our revolvers.
"One can never tell," said Sedjur, "what the day may bring forth, and to go unarmed in the desert is to court death."
So, with the cold invigorating air almost cutting our faces, we set out on our ride into the unknown, at first picking our way slowly among the low bushes, then, on reaching the great sandy wastes, quickening our pace to a gentle canter. How our companions knew the way puzzled us considerably, for no landmark could we distinguish in any direction. Everywhere was sand—hard, red, baked sand; a veritable ocean of sand, and, like the ocean, wind-swept into mighty billows. The sun gradually rose, and we soon discovered that no landmark was necessary, as our route evidently lay due west, and the sun at our backs gave us our course.
For several hours the ride was monotonous in the extreme, then, at about noon, the sandy plains began to show signs of a change of country. Stones cropped up here and there, and in the far distance we could distinguish the filmy outlines of hills and mountains. The hills gradually drew nearer, and in a short time we found ourselves in a new land. Below us was a hollow filled with verdure, date trees, acacias, tamarisks, and luxuriant grassland, through which flowed trickling streams. This was the principal grazing ground of Faris's camels and mares, which we saw scattered in all directions, their herdsmen—all armed with spears and matchlocks—keeping a good look-out on the surrounding high ground.
"Hide yourselves behind the rocks," said the sheik, quietly, "and we will soon see if the men are on the alert."
Then stepping forward himself on to the sky-line, he stood quite motionless, while we peered from behind our shelters into the valley below. Far down in a date grove we heard the neigh of a horse, followed by the barking of a dog; then, as we looked, we could see each sentry turn instinctively towards the figure of the sheik. They had discovered the cause of the alarm, and Faris, satisfied, shouted a watchword which was evidently understood. The chief of the herdsmen rode up to greet us, and we descended with him to the shady spot where his tent was pitched, and where he soon regaled us with coffee and dates.
"Well, Hussein, what is the news?" asked the sheik.
"Nothing of great consequence, Lord Protector," answered the herdsmen, "but I am glad you have come. For three days now single Shammar horsemen have been observing us from different points, and we fear that they intend a raid on the beasts so soon as the moon gives sufficient light. We fully expected it last night, but no one came."
"Ah, Hussein," said the sheik, "it is the old story which you always have to tell. Rest assured that no Shammar dares to touch the property of Faris-ibn-Feyzul. Bring some more coffee, and then we will smoke our pipes until it is time for us to start again for our tents."
The sheik was in the best of spirits, and even talkative. Sedjur and he were evidently devoted to each other, and we could see that the father was as proud of his son as was the son of his father. They had ridden side by side in many a fight, though even now Sedjur was but twenty-four; and each had many tales to tell of the prowess of the other.
"How many of the accursed robbers did you say you encountered at Babil the day before yesterday, father?" asked Sedjur.
"Ten of the Shammar," was the reply, "and one other, of what tribe or nationality I know not. He was not of the desert, though wearing the dress. Perchance he came from Bokhara, or Yarkhand, or, God knows, from India. But whatever land gave him birth must be glad to be rid of him, for he showed not the courage of an Arab townsman. When we bore down on the band he incontinently rode off, and did not rein up and turn to see what was going on until at a safe distance. The dog valued his skin greatly."
"And you put them all to flight?"
"Surely did we," answered the sheik, vehemently, "and sent that black villain, Abbas, to Gehennum."
"What, Abbas-ibn-Rashid?"
"Even so, he who nearly killed you outside Baghdad, when our good friend, the Hakim, here, saved your life. It was an old score, my lad, and I wiped it out, praise be to Allah! We would have sent some more of his followers after the scoundrel, had not the soldiers come down on us, and I doubt not but that Abbas himself had previously warned them to be prepared."
"I am almost sorry, father, that you slew Abbas," said Sedjur, softly.
"Why?" asked the sheik, frowning at his son. "Have you turned woman? Do you wish to show mercy to your bitterest foe?"
"Nay, father, but I had lived for the day when I should meet the man face to face, sword to sword, and spear-point to spear-point. I grieved that you had robbed me of my chance of revenge."
"Well, well, Sedjur," laughed the sheik, "save his ghost, the desert will hear no more of Abbas."
"You secured no booty, then?" inquired Sedjur.
"His mare galloped off when her master fell," replied Faris, "and I brought away only his broken spear, and this."
The sheik raised his cloak, and revealed to our astonished eyes my chamois-leather money belt. Edwards and I instantly recognised it, and involuntary uttered an exclamation of surprise, when Faris, not understanding the reason for our excitement, but thinking that we were admiring his prize, took it off and handed it to us to examine.
"It is filled with money," said he, "and of much value. How Abbas gained possession of it I neither know nor care. It became the prize of war, and is now mine."
"Sheik of Sheiks," I exclaimed, holding the belt in my hand, and looking into his flashing eyes, "I can tell you what money that belt contained a little while since; for it was stolen from my waist as I slept outside the khan at Mahmoudieh not half a moon ago."
"Wonder of wonders!" ejaculated Faris and Sedjur simultaneously, the former appearing to be somewhat sceptical, though fearing to show any distrust of his guests.
"Let us examine the pockets one by one," I said, wishing to prove my bona fides. "In each of the five small pockets on either side of the buckle there should be five English gold pieces, and in the larger pocket at the back some odd kerans and rupees. Come, let us count them out."
I turned out the pockets one by one, and emptied their contents on to the sleeve of Sedjur's cloak. The thief had had no opportunity for spending the money, which was found to be exactly as I had stated. Faris's face wore an expression of utter bewilderment.
"We knew," said he at last to Sedjur, "what manner of man was our guest the Hakim, but we knew not that his friend was a magician, who, when he lost his property, could recover it at his pleasure. Yet now that I bring it to mind, he did but last night read to me the true description of Shahzadi, the grand-dam of my beloved Kushki, and, moreover, he showed me, on a paper, the impression of her eight-nailed shoe, the old Talisman of the Muntafik of which we have heard. All this is magic."
I felt that I had suddenly acquired a reputation by no means desirable, and I hastened to reassure my host, who, having replaced the money in the belt handed it to me, saying that, now that he knew that it was stolen property, he wished to restore it to its rightful owner.
"Nay, nay, sheik," said I, "you obtained it in a fair fight. I lost it through my own carelessness, and I can no longer claim it by right. I never thought to see it again."
"Then," answered Faris, "I see but one way out of the difficulty. If you refuse to take back your own, I offer the belt and all it contains to your friend the Hakim, as a present, in return for all the kindness which he showed to my son Sedjur. We of the desert have an unwritten law, by which no guest of the Aeniza can decline to accept a present from a sheik. Were this not so, then would I straightway ride to the Euphrates, and hurl the thing into its depths; for, knowing what I know, I can never now lay finger on it again. Come, Hakim, my honoured guest, buckle on the belt, and end the trouble; otherwise, who knows? it may prove to me as evil a possession as did that golden curse to many a Bedouin in the days gone by."
So Edwards, at my suggestion, took the belt and fastened it round his waist, offering profuse thanks to his host, who was apparently greatly relieved.
"Tell us, sheik," I said, seeing that he had recovered his equanimity, "something of the golden curse to which you alluded just now, and about which I spoke to you last night. We are all friends here; Sedjur has doubtless heard it all before, and the Hakim and I are one."
Faris looked stealthily round, to make sure that there were no eaves-droppers, and then suddenly turning his eyes on me exclaimed:—
"Think no more of it; forget it; for it will bring you nothing but ruin. I called you 'magician.' Whether I did so rightly or wrongly I cannot say, but this I do know, that your magic, be it ever so strong, can avail nothing against that circlet of gold. As you are aware, it disappeared long years back—even before dear Kushki saw the light of day. No man could ever say what became of it, though there be necromancers (not reckoned by us as men) who have the reputation of knowing all things, and who have been heard to affirm that they could, were they so minded, unearth that hidden curse. Yet even they fear to be so rash. As soon would they let loose in the world Shaitan and all the Jins. Do you suppose your Western magic to be more powerful than that of the East? Do you imagine that you are capable of combating all the evil that fell on every man who ever touched the dreaded thing? No, I cannot believe that you have such conceit."
"I am no magician, sheik," I said, interrupting him, "and I make no pretence to any power not possessed by yourself or any other man. We Englishmen consider all those who practise magic to be impostors. In all honesty, I told you last night that I had come to the desert in search of the Golden Girdle of the Great Queen; and I told you how my acquaintance with the story of the Muntafik talisman had led me to seek information from you."
"I know," said Faris, sorrowfully, "I remember all you said, and if I ever doubted you, the doubt has left me. I believe all that you told me. I swear it. Gladly would I help you to carry out the task imposed upon you; yet, I, Faris-ibn-Feyzul, Sheik of the Jelas Aeniza, who have faced death on countless occasions, and who would face it again at a moment's notice, out of pure love of fighting, I confess to you that I fear to have a hand in resuscitating the golden circlet. Mere death I count as nothing. All must die—whether it be sooner or whether it be later; and so long as I die, as every true Bedouin should, fighting the foes of his forefathers, I care nothing for myself. But how should I feel if, when dying, I knew that I had been instrumental in reviving, and in leaving behind me as a legacy to posterity, a curse on the inhabitants of the world?"
I began to think that the Golden Girdle had a most fearsome reputation, but I remembered that my uncle had specially warned me not to be influenced by the superstitious dread of the natives. I had always laughed at superstition, and though I had sufficient good sense not to laugh at the sheik, I inwardly considered his fears as ridiculous and childish.
"So be it, sheik," I said. "Far be it from me to attempt to influence you to do anything against the guidance of your conscience. Let us forget that we ever spoke of the Golden Girdle. Let us forget that it ever existed. There are troubles enough in the world without adding to them. We will converse on other matters."
"What thought you of the horse you have been riding?" inquired Faris proudly.
"Perfection," I replied. "Never have I sat on the back of his equal."
"I thought so," said Faris, beaming with delight "He is indeed a worthy son of my Kushki."
"And to think that we foreigners," said I, "possess her grand-dam's shoe!"
I had hardly finished speaking, when the sheik sprang to his feet, seized sword and spear, and rushed to his horse, shouting as he did so that the Shammar were upon us. Sedjur was in the saddle almost as soon as his father; and Edwards and I, not fully realising what was going on, followed suit in all haste. Then we saw what our host's keen eyes had seen a couple of seconds earlier. Over the ridge above us a long line of horsemen were sweeping down into the valley; the watchmen posted among the rocks fired their matchlocks as a signal of alarm, and ran for their horses, which were mostly tethered close to the spot where he had been resting. There was little time to think, but it was easy to understand the enemy's intentions. The mares and camels were all grazing down the valley, a quarter of a mile or so below us, while the herdsmen, in order that they might be able to obtain a wide view of the surrounding country, had been stationed on the higher ground above us and to our right and left. The raiders, evidently well aware of this somewhat faulty arrangement, had somehow crept up unnoticed to the vicinity of the ridge, and had then galloped in between the herdsmen and the herd, the foremost horsemen descending swiftly into the valley and rapidly working round and overlapping the grazing animals. This was an almost instantaneous evolution; in fact, when Faris first gave the alarm, the line had already shaped into a crescent, and before we had mounted, it had become a semicircle, separating the mares from the camels, and driving the former before it and away from us. The camels, being too refractory and slow to carry off, were left behind.
"Quick, Sedjur lad," shouted the sheik without any sign of excitement, "rally the herdsmen, and get ready for pursuit, while I watch the direction they take."
Then the lad, as his father called him, opened his lungs and sent up a war-howl, which rang through the whole valley, and came echoing back from every rock and every hollow. If it did not strike terror into the hearts of the raiders, at any rate it had a most inspiriting effect on the wretched herdsman, who showed the greatest keenness to get to their horses and form up for pursuit. How long it was before all the men had come in I do not remember; it could not have been many minutes, though it seemed like an hour. At last all were ready, and away we went at a hand-gallop, up the stony side of the valley, to the spot where the sheik awaited us. Sedjur—no longer the calm, imperturbable youth, but a fierce warrior, with long, gleaming spear raised aloft—led the party, Edwards and I abreast of him, on either side.
"This is no work for you," said Sedjur, addressing me as we rode along. "You and the Hakim had best drop behind and await our return."
"Have you such a poor opinion of us town-dwellers, then?" I replied. "We are your guests, and it is our duty to assist you. Besides, we want to see the fun."
"Bravely said," exclaimed the sheik, who had overheard my reply as we approached him. "Come on and help us to deal death to the Shammar thieves. They have crossed the plain, and are away on the other side of the ridge yonder."
How our little well-bred horses flew over that sandy strip! Their hoofs seemed barely to touch the ground. In front galloped the sheik; close behind him, we three; then the Bedouin herdsmen, some twenty in number, like a troop of cavalry in single rank.
We topped the ridge, and without drawing rein drank in the scene before us. There lay another stretch of rolling desert, which in the far distance appeared to slope gradually up to a network of bold hills. Midway between us and the hills, we could see clearly enough the mares being driven off, and raising a vast moving column of dust, resembling a sand-storm. That our enemies were expert cattle-lifters was evident, for they kept the beasts all going at a swinging trot, in one compact body.
Faris raised a wild shout as his quarry came in view, and pressed forward into the plain.
"Take half to the left, Sedjur; quick lad, and work round, so as to head them off from the hills. I will take the rest to the right. If the devils reach the hills, we shall not recover a single mare."
A strong breeze was blowing from one side, and carried the dust raised by the fugitives well away to leeward, enabling us to see and almost count the number of men with whom we would have to reckon. That they out-numbered our party was certain; though, as far as we could judge, not by very many. For the moment, however, actual numbers were of small account; speed was the sole thought; for the necessity of cutting in between the enemy and the hills was now very apparent. Though they were almost a mile away from us, and had little more than another mile to traverse before reaching the shelter of the hills, we certainly had the great advantage of being unhampered by loose beasts; while our opponents had to keep the mares together, so as to prevent them from breaking away. As our party divided, Edwards and I happened to be rather more to the left than to the right, so we naturally drifted off with Sedjur, who, waving his spear above his head, led his handful of men away to the flank. Rapidly we gained on the bulky column of dust; we were soon abreast of it, and it blew across our path and enveloped us, so that we were almost choked. As we emerged from the dense cloud, we saw that the sheik's party had out-distanced us by a little, and had already reached a point between the enemy and the hills, so Sedjur wheeled half right, and went straight for the stolen mares; while his father, observing the movement, instantly swung round and brought his men down pell-mell on the foremost of the enemy. Panic seized the raiders, and before we could reach them, they abandoned their booty, and fled in a disorganised mass away to the flank farthest from us. The mares were saved, though there was still the risk of their terror causing them to scatter over the desert. Sedjur and his party, however, understood their business, and rounding them up, soon pacified them. Meanwhile, the sheik had seen his opportunity, and at the very moment that the enemy took flight, he suddenly changed his direction, and went off in hot pursuit of the fugitives.
"Come on, Henderson," said Edwards, "let's be in at the death."
"Right you are," I shouted. And away we went. It was a stern chase and a long one; but when we had almost caught up our friends, we found that they had overhauled the tailmost of the band, and that a brisk fight was imminent. Then Edwards, who was a little ahead of me, suddenly reined up his horse, so that it nearly fell over backwards, and I instinctively did the same.
"What is the matter?" I asked.
"This is not our game," replied Edwards, somewhat sternly. "The poor devils could not stand our revolvers. It would be sheer butchery to use them. I don't want to shoot any of them, and I am sure you don't. Besides, look, the sheik is drawing off his men, and I expect he considers that honour is satisfied."
At first I felt that I had been rebuked; for, on joining in the pursuit, I certainly had had every intention of using my revolver freely. But I soon saw that my companion's argument was perfectly sound, and I was glad that the combat had suddenly come to a close without our being called upon to take part in it. The sheik and his party presently returned, the enemy having disappeared into the hills, and we now learned the reason of the rapid withdrawal.
"They were leading us into an ambuscade," said Faris, as he rejoined us. "If it had not been for you, I, in my excitement, should have gone on, and doubtless we should all have been killed. I saw you pull up, and I instantly understood that you realised the stratagem I thank you both for giving me the signal."
Now, although I believe that Edwards and I were as honest as most men, we did not think it at all necessary to enlighten the sheik as to our real motive in suddenly coming to a halt. As a matter of fact, we were so astonished at what he said that we did not reply, thus leaving him with a high opinion of our astuteness, which, as we never undeceived him, he probably retained to the end of his days. There was, however, little time to think about what had occurred, for the main object now was to return to the mares, and conduct them back to a place of security. Naturally, everyone was very jubilant at having recovered the stolen beasts, and Sedjur and his party had already set them in motion towards home. Then the great cloud of dust once again rose upwards, almost obscuring the fast sinking sun, and darkness had set in before the mares were once again at the grazing ground from which they had been carried off.
That night we stayed at the grazing-ground, half expecting another attack, the sheik thinking it by no means unlikely that there was a large number of the Shammar tribe on the hills. But nothing occurred to disturb our rest, though we took it in turns to watch all night, Edwards keeping Sedjur company, whilst I sat with Faris. For half an hour or so after we came on duty the sheik remained silent, then he began to speak in a low tone.
"Magician," he said.
"Do not call me by that name," I said laughing. "I am nothing of the kind."
"Well," he replied, "if the name does not please you, I will not call you by it. Still, the man who can tell one all about the breed of a mare directly he sees her, who can recover his own stolen property whensoever he chooses, and who has just now returned to me all my stolen mares—a man who can do such things, I say, must possess powers of no ordinary kind. Such a man we desert folk call by the name magician."
"So be it, sheik," said I, not caring to argue further about the matter, "call me what you will. But what was it you were going to say when I interrupted you."
"It was a small thing," said he. "I had been thinking of Shahzadi's shoe, the Muntafik talisman. Where did you say it was kept?"
"In the biggest building in the biggest town in all England," I replied.
"Why should your people wish to keep in such a place so unimportant a thing as the shoe of one of our mares? I cannot understand you Europeans. Men come and pay much money for bricks and pieces of stone picked out of the ground at Babil, and carry them away on the backs of asses. The Bedouins laugh at them. Do these also go to the big house where the horse-shoe is?"
"Yes, the house is full of such things, and were it possible to obtain the Golden Belt of the Great Queen, that likewise would be placed there."
"Better not," said Faris, "for the big house would totter and fall, and the whole town would be destroyed. Such things have happened in years gone by in this land—and, they say, because of that accursed belt. I do not know if what they say is true, but you have yourself seen what is left of such a great town as Babil, and I know of many another which has been levelled, and swallowed up by the sand. I say again, forget that belt of gold. Tell those who live in the big house that it is lost for ever. But Shahzadi's shoe is a different thing. Tell me, do the people who live in the big house keep all they possess for ever?"
"You want to know," I said, "whether you could possibly obtain the horse-shoe. I will copy the drawing, and write out for you, in Arabic, a copy of the document which I read to you."
"It would be of small value," said the sheik, with a sigh; "but, oh, if I could obtain the real shoe of the great Shahzadi, then would I be for ever happy."
"Sheik," I replied, "it can never be—at least it would be very difficult. Perhaps if I were to find the Golden Girdle, and were able to lay it before the keepers of the big house, perhaps, I say, they might regard me with favour and ask what I would in return. If at that moment I could reply, 'One, Faris-ibn-Feyzul, a great Sheik of the Aeniza, and my devoted friend, even he whose assistance enabled me to be successful in my quest of the Golden Girdle, is the owner of the mare Kushki, whose grand-dam was the famous Shahzadi. He desires above all things to possess the shoe of his noble Kushki's grand-dam, and this shoe is in your keeping.' Then, perhaps, the great men would consult together, and might say to me, 'You have done well in recovering the Great Queen's belt, and Faris ibn-Feyzul must be a truly worthy man; it is well that he should receive a fitting reward for his valuable services; therefore we ordain that the shoe of the mare Shahzadi shall be handed to you for conveyance to the sheik.'"
"That would indeed be a day of days for me, and for all the Aeniza," said the sheik. "But, alas, it can never be more than a dream. For, if I understand you rightly, the price of the shoe is that belt of gold."
"Yes," I answered, "that is what I meant."
"You cannot forget the wretched thing," said he, almost angrily. "Let the world go on its way. Do not seek to destroy all that is good in it. There are things which Allah has decreed shall be left alone; and if its history has been handed down to us truly, this golden circlet is one of them."
"Sheik," I said, "you are a great man, and chief of an important branch of a great tribe. Your men regard you with reverence and respect, and your position has doubtless given you a vast knowledge of men and of the affairs of the world. Yet you believe in superhuman and supernatural occurrences; or you think that you believe in them. You think that I am a magician, because I have been connected with certain events which had results different from what you expected. You believe in the mysterious powers of this Golden Girdle, because you have always heard wild stories about it."
As I concluded, I was astounded at my audacity in thus rating a Bedouin sheik in his own country, but my object was to draw him out, and to induce him to divulge what he knew of the Golden Girdle. I was aware that I could not persuade him that I was not a magician, and I now began to hope that he was superstitious enough to think that I could see through him and everything else. I firmly believe that he had the idea that there was something mysterious about me; otherwise I cannot account for the fact that this man, the terror of all the neighbouring tribes, should now, and on many other occasions, have allowed me to speak to him, and even dictate to him in a manner such as I often did.
Faris remained silent for a long while. I was afraid that I had insulted him. I did not dare to break the silence, and in the black hours before dawn this silence became oppressive. At last I summoned up courage, and put the question—
"I trust, sheik," I said, "that I did not offend you by my open speech."
"No, my son," he replied. And I knew that by thus addressing me, he bore me no malice.
"You townsmen," he went on, "and especially you Europeans, do not understand the minds of the dwellers in the desert. Sedjur, after his return from the Hakim's house in Baghdad, told me many things about you and your curious ways. In the towns you may not have strange things influencing your destinies, as we in the desert have always with us. Perchance, you are protected from them by the soldiers and the watchmen. In this manner your eyes are blinded, and you do not see such things as we see."
"Perhaps you are right, sheik," I replied, wishing to appease him. "But tell me some of the strange things that this golden belt has done?"
"Of myself," he replied, "I know nothing about it. All that I know and believe was told to me by my father, who saw and was an actor in many of the events. Other tales, as numerous almost as the stars in the heavens, I have heard from time to time. Some of them may be true; others are undoubtedly false. Of the long, long ago, when the belt was worn by the living queen, I am ignorant. My knowledge is only of modern times, when my father was a young man. Before I had arrived at years of discretion the belt had been laid to rest again. I can just recollect my father's return to camp with his prize of war, the beautiful young mare Shahzadi, to whose daughter in later years was born my mare Kushki—and she was born full twenty summers ago."
"You never saw the belt, then," I asked.
"Never," said the sheik, "but my father and other men with whom I was acquainted had often handled it, and they were fond of describing its magnificent workmanship—so much so that I have often thought that I must have seen it myself."
"What was it like?" I inquired, curious to know if his description would agree with that furnished to me by my papers.
"It was of pure gold," said Faris enthusiastically, "and wonderfully fashioned. It represented on the outer side, as seen on the waist of anyone wearing it, twelve life-like serpents intertwined in various contortions. The flat head of each serpent was thick-set with rare gems, and the body of each beast was composed of a thousand or more small links, so that the belt was as flexible as a piece of cord. It was solid and of great weight, and the fastening consisted of the heads of four of the serpents, two on either side, with wide-opened jaws whose fangs interlocked. Thus much I remember of what was told to me; and I remember also that my father affirmed that no man fastened the belt round his body with impunity. So great was the power contained in it, that the wearer appeared instantly to become demented, to rave, and foam at the mouth, and in some instances even to die before the belt could be removed from his body. A party of the Khazail who first dug up the thing suffered considerably in this respect, and perhaps it was fortunate for them that when attacking a caravan of Persian pilgrims returning from Mecca they were worsted, and in the fight lost their treasured circlet. The Persians, shortly afterwards, perished to a man, when the winds of the desert swept up, and buried them and their camels in the hot sand. The belt was lost for a while, and forgotten. Then came the day when some merchants of Hayil, on a journey to Baghdad, chanced to come across the remains of the Persian caravan, and found the belt lying half buried in the sand. The finder's claim to its possession was disputed by his fellows, and in the altercation that followed, he, as well as three friends who espoused his cause, were killed. The others, deciding to sell the belt in Baghdad and divide the proceeds, went on their way. They travelled by night, hoping thus to avoid the bands of robbers by whom the road was infested, and they lost the direction, so that they found themselves at length far to the south of Baghdad near to the river Tigris. One night they slept in the great ruined hall of the Kosroes at Ctesiphon, and while they slept a vast portion of the walls gave way and fell, crushing all that remained of the party save two men who fled in terror, but not before they had secured the golden belt. They were almost immediately overtaken by robbers, who stripped them of their clothes, took all their possessions, and decamped with everything, including that girdle. All those things occurred when my father was quite a young man, and when my father's father was sheik. I have said enough to show you that there was a curse on the belt, and that all who touched it paid the penalty—usually a severe one."
"But, sheik," I said, "tell me more of these weird tales, which interest me greatly. Had you been a servant of the great Harun-al-Rashid you could not have learned to tell stories better. Come, the Shammar have no intention of annoying us, so relate all that you know of the mysterious workings of the belt until it disappeared for ever. What became of the robbers who left the two merchants naked in the desert, and what became of the merchants?"
"Well, story-telling passes the dark hours pleasantly, and though I would prefer to hear from you the doings of your own people in your native land, I am your host and therefore your servant, who needs must obey his master. What became of the merchants I cannot say, for no man ever knew. Perhaps they perished from exposure to the scorching sun; perhaps they died of hunger and thirst; or perhaps they fell an easy prey to the wild beasts. But in what manner they met their death Allah alone knows. Of the robbers I can tell you what was told to me. They were Khazail, and strange as it may appear, there were among them some men who had been of the party that dug up the belt and afterwards lost it to the Persians. Now these men had been witnesses of the evil that befell those of their tribesmen who had worn the belt—how some had died, and some had for a time become mad—and they cautioned their companions against having anything to do with it. After a long discussion, they decided that they would bury it on the bank of the river, send the chief of the party to Baghdad to interview a Jew dealer, and endeavour to sell it. The Jew eventually returned with the chief, examined the belt, and bought it for a thousand kerans, after which he rolled it up carefully in his cloak and conveyed it home. Next day, he repaired to the palace of the Governor-General and offered the belt for sale for five thousand kerans; but the Governor-General refused to buy it for so great a sum. That night the Jew's house was consumed by fire, the Jew himself being burned to death, and nothing remained of the contents of the house.
"That the golden belt did not perish in the flames is certain, since it appeared again after some little time; and many years afterwards a slave-attendant of the palace harem stated that she had seen a mysterious snake-girdle hanging therein. It may be that its presence there accounted for the fact, which was well known at the time, that a grievous sickness attacked the ladies of the harem and their children. Many died, for there was nothing that would cure them. But of that little ever came to light.
"In the course of time the Governor-General, returning to Turkey, took the road to Damascus, accompanied by a large following and a strong escort. The news that so large a party was leaving Baghdad to cross the desert soon got noised abroad among the tribes, but none were found daring enough to risk an attack on it. A band of Shammar, however, followed on the heels of the great caravan at a safe distance for some days, watching their opportunity to waylay stragglers, and eventually came up with two camels which had broken down and were being urged on by a few men. The Shammar made short work of the men, and looted the packages carried by the camels. They contained much valuable property, and sewn up carefully in several silk kaffiyas was found the Golden Belt. Fearing to be followed, the robbers made off with their booty as rapidly as possible, and did not stop until they had put many miles between them and the caravan. Now it would seem, from what has been related, that the silk covering which enclosed the belt deprived it of its power of causing harm; for, it is on record that so long as it was wrapped up, no man suffered any evil effects from touching it, and it remained in the possession of the Shammar for some years. Those Khazail who had first dug it up, and later on sold it to the Jew in Baghdad, came to see it in the Shammar tents, and identified it as the same belt. They warned the Shammar of its hidden power, but were derided. Other tribes, hearing of the Shammar treasure, for which even a Baghdad Jew had paid a thousand kerans, made friends with its owners, so that they might inspect it. In this manner this offshoot of the Shammar made alliances with many tribes who had hitherto been hostile to them, and the Aeniza—too proud to approach their ancient enemies—were forsaken by many of their old friends.
"About this time my father's father died, and my father became Sheik of the Jelas. When he addressed his people, he told them that their hereditary foes, the Shammar, had grown strong because of their ownership of the serpents of gold, and he urged upon them the necessity of breaking the power of the Shammar, by attacking the small Salama tribe who held the belt, and seizing their treasure. It was my father himself who told me of this, so I know it to be true. He picked thirty of his best fighting men, rode all night, and attacked the Salama's camp at dawn. They resisted bravely, and a fierce fight ensued, but so sudden had been the onslaught, that the victory was easy. In those days, the Jelas neither gave nor expected quarter, and though they lost several men, they utterly destroyed the whole family of the Shammar Salama occupying these tents, with the exception of the sheik, Jedaan-ibn-Mirshid, and his spear-bearer, who, leaping to their horses, fled away. The pursuit was immediately taken up. Jedaan's mare cast a shoe, which caused her to stumble and fall, and my father, riding up, slew his enemy with his own hand—capturing the priceless Shahzadi, who, as you know, was none other than the grand-dam of dear Kushki."
"But how," I asked, "did Shahzadi's shoe become the talisman of the Muntafik?"
"Ah, that," said the sheik, "is a story for another time."
"And so," I said, "your people secured the Golden Girdle."
"No," replied Faris. "Do you not remember what was written in the paper which you read to me? Jedaan's spear-bearer escaped in the confusion attending the combat between my father and the Salama sheik; and, as was discovered later on, he carried the belt with him. What happened to him and the belt was only learned many years afterwards. He fled for refuge to the abode of a seer with whom many of the Bedouin tribes were on friendly terms, and whom they were in the habit of consulting. This seer dwelt alone in an underground chamber amongst the ruins of a town named Katib, at no great distance from Meshed Ali, and he received the refugee kindly, hiding him in his chamber for several days. When he heard the tale that he had to tell, and saw that he had with him the Golden Belt, he was much troubled; for he was convinced that, since the Shammar had worn the belt round his waist, he would either die before long or become mad. The seer determined to do what he could to save his guest, and after going through various ceremonies, which we people do not understand, he affirmed that he had held converse with the spirit of the dead Queen, who had told him that if the man proceeded to the ruins of Babil and buried the belt in the spot from which it had been dug up, so that no man should ever be able to find it again, and if he afterwards went and bathed in the Euphrates river, then no further harm should come to him. The Shammar, now beginning to feel ill, said that he was willing to obey any command that the seer should give him, but that it was impossible for him to discover the spot where he should bury the belt. This his friend assured him would be simple, since the spirit of the Great Queen could be procured to lend assistance. The Shammar late that night was given a potent draught; and the seer, after lengthy incantations, declared that the spirit had entered into him, and that he could conduct his guest to the very spot. So the two, taking the belt, proceeded to the ruins of Babil, and there buried the thing. Then the seer said that the spirit of the Queen required that a great fire should be lighted over the burial-place, as a signal to the gods that the Golden Belt was once again at rest. The bushes grew dense all around; to fire them was a simple matter; and the wind blew the flames till the fire spread far and wide. This done, the seer commanded the Shammar to ride with all speed to the river, and there bathe. The serpents, however, had already eaten into the flesh of the man, and he was no longer sane. He reached the river bank at dawn, and there, after a few hours, his body was found impaled on his own spear. Such was the end of the Golden Belt, and of the last man who wore it. That it happened as I have told you I am certain, as I had it from the very lips of that self-same seer."
"Then you knew him yourself," I exclaimed, in astonishment.
"Certainly," replied the sheik.
"How long ago did he die?" I asked.
"He still lives," said the sheik. "He is an old man, but many believe that he will never die."
The day was already dawning as Faris concluded his strange story, and the mares were being collected together to continue the journey to the sheik's headquarters, as it was not considered safe to leave them at this outlying grazing ground. I thanked my host for having taken the trouble to talk at such length for my entertainment, but he impressed on me that his main object had been to show me how useless it was for me to think of endeavouring to find the Golden Girdle. As a matter of fact, the end of his story had quite the opposite effect; for the knowledge that the seer was still in the land of the living gave me a ray of hope.
"Well," said Edwards, after I had given him the sheik's account of the mysterious girdle, "what is your programme now? We cannot with any respectability go on sponging off Faris much longer. Besides, I am not a free man like yourself; I only obtained a month's leave, and three weeks of it have already gone. In fact, I am beginning to be nervous about the prospects of my being able to reach Baghdad before my leave is up."
"Never mind about your leave," I replied. "Forget the wretched fact that you are tied down to time. Think of the honour and the glory of running the Golden Girdle to earth. We are on the scent, man. It is breast high. With any luck, we shall kill in the open. So take a bit more leave, and risk it."
Edwards laughed.
"All right," he said, at last, "I suppose I cannot help myself. But I was beginning to have visions of being able to slip off with this money belt of yours, which I think is more likely to be useful than the other golden one that you are worrying about."
He took off the belt and threw it across the tent to me; as I caught it, some money dropped out of the pockets; and in picking up the gold coins, I noticed that two of them were not English sovereigns, but 10-mark pieces.
"That is curious," I remarked; "I wonder where these came from. I am perfectly certain my gold was all English. I suppose the thief had found a German wandering about the desert at some time or other."
I then examined all the pockets carefully, and found all my own money where it had always been; but there were two pockets at the back which I had not used, and in these I discovered, to my astonishment, eight more 10-mark pieces, and a sheet of paper on which something was written in German.
"Can you read German?" I asked.
"Yes, a bit," said Edwards.
"Then come along," said I, "and let us see what it is all about."
Edwards took the scrap of paper, looked at it for a second, then gasped.
"You have been properly done. Listen to this:"
"To the merchant of Baghdad who shall be nameless. This to acquaint you of my success. The bearer will hand you the Serpent Belt of the Great Queen. On receipt of it, examine it thoroughly, and having assured yourself that it is genuine, pay the Arab 5000 kerans. Pack the belt carefully in a box of dates, and proceed with it immediately on the steamer to Bussorah. I send the Serpents to you, so that the sheik may be paid his money, and because I fear that I may be robbed of it if I keep the belt on my person. Your own reward as agreed upon you can deduct from my account. A thousand thanks for your assistance, from your devoted friend whose name you know."
"Is that all?" I asked.
"Every word," replied Edwards. "Isn't it enough?"
"I should have liked a date," said I.
"There isn't one," said Edwards; "but it has not been written long. You can see that by the pencil writing."
I looked at the paper again. There was no doubt that someone else had found my treasure, and had thus anticipated me. Then it suddenly occurred to me that the man who was carrying this note had been killed; that the note had never been delivered, and that consequently the Golden Girdle had never been handed over to the nameless Baghdad merchant. Still, the fact remained that, to all appearances, the girdle had been dug up by a European—German, Swiss, Austrian, or some other—and was undoubtedly above ground. I had lost it, that was certain; for, if another European had become possessed of it, he had just as much right to it as I should have had if I had been fortunate enough to find it. I was bitterly disappointed; and Edwards, who hitherto had rather scoffed at my enthusiasm, was even more angry at the turn of events than I was. We held a long consultation as to what we should do, and we came to the conclusion that we were powerless to do anything. It was evident from the note that my rival knew the value of his find as well as I did, otherwise he would not be paying away large sums of money for it. Therefore it would be useless to try and find him and offer to buy it. I decided to take Sheik Faris into my confidence and ask his advice; so I went off to his tent, and told him about the note. At first he laughed at the whole thing, saying that it was absurd to believe that anyone had been able to find the girdle.
"When I slew Abbas-ibn-Rashid the other day," he said calmly, "I took care to search his body carefully. He certainly was not in possession of the Golden Belt of Serpents, or it would now be with me."
"Perhaps," I suggested, "some other member of the party had it, and rode away with it."
"I cannot believe," said the sheik, "that anyone has found it. Still, now that I reflect, there was that stranger—Indian, Syrian, or whatsoever he was—who, as I told you, fled in such haste from the field. Can it be possible that he was escaping with the serpent belt? Can he be the writer of that note?"
I saw it all. Undoubtedly the foreigner, aided by this party of Shammar, had succeeded in finding the girdle, and the dead man had been entrusted with it to convey to the Baghdad merchant. When Faris and his men appeared on the scene, the foreigner probably took the girdle and rode off out of harm's way. This seemed to me a very obvious solution of the problem, but when I put it before Faris, he shook his head.
"If," he said, after a pause, "I could believe that that was really so, I would gather every Jelas horseman, and I would hunt down that Shammar family until I found the stranger and the girdle. I would destroy the whole gang, and would lay the girdle at your feet."
"And thereby become entitled," I replied, with a laugh, "to the shoe once worn by the renowned Shahzadi."
The sheik smiled and rubbed his hands together with delight.
"No, sheik," said I, "I would never accept the girdle obtained in such a manner. If another man has found it, and has lawfully become its owner, I should honour him in that he had succeeded where I had failed. To take from him what was his own by right would be theft."
At this my host was somewhat abashed, though he explained that in the desert might was right, and that what a man could not keep he must lose.
"But," said he, "my curiosity is now as great as your own, and I will satisfy it. There is one who can tell me truly if the Great Queen's Girdle has returned to curse the world."
"Who is he?" I asked excitedly.
"That same seer," said the sheik, "who was the last to see the serpent belt. If anyone has disturbed its resting-place, the seer, by communicating with the spirit of the Queen, will be able to discover all that has occurred. You smile! You would mock at my belief in the powers of the seer! Such incredulity we desert folk ascribe to town-bred ignorance. We are aware that you of the towns—and especially you Ingleezee—know many things of which we have never so much as heard; yet, I tell you, there are things in the desert which no townsman can fathom. You are a strong man, and courageous, as I have seen with my own eyes. Therefore, I make this proposal to you; that you shall leave the Hakim here with Sedjur, and shall come with me to the abode of the seer, to hear from his lips if aught hath disturbed that accursed girdle. I warn you that the journey will be no easy one; two days and two nights in the saddle, carrying our own food and water; always liable to be attacked by roving Shammar, Muntafik, and Khazail; and only our two selves to resist attack, or to trust to the speed of our horses."
"Enough, sheik," I replied, "I will accompany you whenever you are ready to make the journey."
"It is well," said Faris. "I did not misjudge my man. We will have supper, and start with the moon an hour later. But you cannot go in those clothes of yours; the seer would be afraid of you. You shall wear garments which Sedjur and I will lend you."
Poor Edwards! I can see his face now. How he argued with me about my madness in thinking of such a crack-brained expedition! But he argued in vain, and when he saw that I was too obstinate to listen to him, he changed his tone and did all he could to help me prepare for my ride, dressing me up in my borrowed clothes, packing my light saddle-bags, and insisting on stuffing my pockets with enough revolver ammunition to wipe out half the Bedouins of the desert. I handed him over my money belt, for safe keeping; gave him instructions about returning to Baghdad if I failed to put in an appearance within a certain time; then, after grasping his hand, I mounted my little horse, and rode off by the side of the sheik.
We followed no visible track, but my companion never hesitated. Occasionally he looked up at the stars, but otherwise he sat motionless in the saddle, forging ahead at a fair pace hour after hour. I kept close on his heels, with my eyes intent on the blade of his spear, which was visible high above his head. I did not dare to break the silence, as I had been warned that at any moment we might run across Bedouins who would probably prove enemies. Throughout that whole night, I may say, I rode with my heart in my mouth, and with my hand on my revolver. When the moon had sunk, the darkness was intense, and Faris slackened his speed, and more than once dismounted, to place his ear to the ground and listen. At dawn we halted on a rise, from which we could see the whole country for many miles around, when the sheik told me to get an hour's sleep while he watched; and I required no second bidding. On being awakened, I found my companion preparing to continue the journey; and after eating some dried dates and small cakes, we set out again, just as the sun commenced to rise over the boundless plain. No incident occurred to break the weariness of that day's ride; no human being, no beast, no bird was visible at any time; but before us always lay the mirage of distant water and the reflections of many buildings. Sometimes we halted to rest the horses and to snatch a meal or a nap; but such halts were of short duration, as the sheik insisted on pushing with all haste through what he now explained was a waterless region. We had almost expended on our horses and ourselves the water that we carried in our water-skins, and it was, therefore, a relief, at sundown, to see before us a far extending lake and marsh, which my friend assured me was no deceitful mirage. Tired as I was, I fully appreciated the delightful change of scene, as we rode through the scrub and green grass bordering the swamp, flushing snipe and waterfowl at almost every step.
"Are you sorry that you came?" asked the sheik, as we watered our gallant little beasts.
"No," I replied, "this alone is well worth it all. But, tell me, how far have we yet to go? I confess to you that I feel that I am in very truth a townsman, and not made of the same stuff as your horses and yourselves."
Faris smiled, and it was a pleasure to see his face relax, for throughout our ride he had worn a hard set expression, with eyes ever keen and restless. I knew, from the change, that he was no longer anxious, and he apologised profusely for having taxed my powers of endurance so highly.
"The worst is over," he said. "Because of the water, it was advisable to hurry. By midnight we shall have accomplished our journey."
It wanted yet an hour of midnight when, having ridden for some miles beyond the marsh, the moon showed us that we were entering extensive ruins. After picking our way through the débris of stone and brickwork for a considerable distance, the sheik stopped, and taking out some cords, thrust his spear into the ground and fastened our horses to it.