Flying Legion

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by George Allan England


  CHAPTER XLI

  THE MASTER'S PRICE

  A dim and subtly perfumed corridor opened out before them, its wallshung with tapestries, between which, by the light of sandal-oil_mash'als_, or cressets, the glimmer of the dull-gold walls could bedistinguished.

  Pillars rose to the roof, and these were all inlaid withmother-of-pearl, with fine copper and silver arabesques of amazingcomplexity. Every minutest architectural detail had been carved out ofthe solid gold dyke that had formed the city; nothing had been addedto fill out any portion. The imagination was staggered at thought ofthe infinite skill and labor required for such a task. The creation ofthis city of El Barr seemed far beyond the possible; yet here it was,all the result of the graver's chisel.[1]

  [Footnote 1: If any reader doubts the existence of El Barr, as a cityof gold carved from a single block, on the ground that such a workwould be impossible, I refer him to an account of Petra, in the_National Geographic Magazine_ for May, 1907. Petra, in all details,was carved from granite--a monolithic city.]

  Blase as the Legionaries were and hardened to wonders, the sight ofthis corridor and of the vast banquet-hall opening out of it, at thefar end, came near upsetting their aplomb. The major even muttered anoath or two, under his breath, till Leclair nudged him with a forcefulelbow.

  Not thus must Franks, from Feringistan, show astonishment oradmiration.

  "May the peace be upon thee," all at once exclaimed Bara Miyan,gesturing for the Master to enter the vast hall. "Peace, until therising of the day!"

  "And upon thee, the peace!" the Master answered, with the correctArabic formula. They entered, and after them the other Legionaries andthe sub-chiefs of Jannati Shahr.

  The banquet-hall was enormous. The Master's glance estimated it asabout two hundred and fifty feet long by one hundred and seventy-fivewide, with a height from golden floor to flat-arched roof of some onehundred and twenty-five. Embroidered cloths of camel's-hair and silkcovered the walls. Copper braziers, suspended from the pillars, sentdim spirals of perfumed smoke aloft into the blue air.

  About sixty feet from the floor, a row of clerestory windows,unglazed, admitted arrows of sunlight through a golden fretwork; andthese arrows, piercing the incense vapor, checkered intricate patternson the enormous, deep-piled Persian rugs of rose, lilac, and mistyblue.

  Tables and chairs, of course, there were none. A _dakkah_, orplatform, in horseshoe shape, at the far end, covered with rugs andcushions, and with water-jars, large copper fire-pans, coffee-pots ofsilver, and _shishahs_ (water-pipes) told where the feast was to beoffered.

  From a side door, as a silken curtain was drawn back, some fifteenslave-girls entered--whiter than their masters and in tight jacketsand loose, silk trousers. These girls brought copper basins ofrose-water for the Arabs' "lesser ablution" before a meal. Bara Miyansmiled slightly as he gestured the Legionaries also to wash hands andfaces; but the Master, little relishing the idea of using this samewater after the Arabs, shook his head.

  Not thus slyly could the Olema inflict humiliation on unbelievers. Ahard look crept into the Master's eyes. This covert insult, after theexchange of salt, boded very ill.

  In silence the Legionaries watched the Arabs dry their hands andfaces on towels given them by the slave-girls, who then noiselesslywithdrew. All the Arabs prostrated themselves and prayed. The Masterwas the only one who noticed one significant fact: that now the_kiblah_, or direction of prayer, was not to the north-west, where layMecca, but--judging by the sun--was almost due west, toward the spotwhere lay the Black Stone. This reassured him once more.

  "They recognize the Stone, right enough," thought he. "As long asnothing happens to that, we hold the whip-hand of them. Our only realdanger is that something _might_ happen to it. But a few hours, now,will end all this. And in a few hours, what can happen?"

  The Arabs ceased their droning supplications to Allah, which had beenrising with hypnotically soothing murmurs through the incensed air,and now followed Bara Miyan toward the raised platform. The old Sheikbeckoned his guests. All disposed themselves comfortably among thecushions. The Legionaries ignored what seemed a disposition onthe part of the Arabs to separate them--to scatter them along theplatform.

  "Keep together, men," the Master commanded. "Group yourselves closelyhere, in the middle. Say nothing. Watch everything. Make no movewithout specific orders. If it comes to a fight, and I am killed,Leclair will command you. His knowledge of Arabic temporarily rankshim above Bohannan. Don't shoot unless it comes to hard necessity; butif you do shoot, make every bullet count--and save the last one foryourselves!"

  Bara Miyan clapped his hands. Through two arched doorways, to rightand left, entered a silent file of the huge, half-naked Maghrabimen. All were unarmed; but the muscles of their heavy shoulders, thegorilla-like dangle of their steel-fingered hands produced an effectmore ominous even than the gleam of simitars in the dim cressets'light would have been.

  Along the walls these black barbarians disposed themselves, a fullhundred or more, saying nothing, seeming to see nothing, mere humanautomata. Bohannan, seated cross-legged between Captain Alden and theMaster, swore an oath.

  "What are these infernal murderers here for?" growled he. "Ask theSheik, will you? I thought you and he had eaten salt together! If thisisn't a trap, it looks too damned much like it to be much of a picnic!Faith, this is a Hell of a party!"

  "Silence, sir!" commanded the Master; while Leclair, at his otherside, cast a look of anger at the Celt. "Diplomacy requires that weconsider these men as a guard of honor. Pay no attention to them,anybody! Any sign of hesitation now, or fear, may be suicide.Remember, we are dealing with Orientals. The 'grand manner' is whatcounts with them. I advise every man who has tobacco, to light acigarette and look indifferent. _Verb sap!_"

  Most of the Legionaries produced tobacco; but the Olema, smiling,raised a hand of negation. For already the slave-girls were enteringwith trays of cigarettes and silver boxes of tobacco. These theypassed to the visitors, then to the Arabs. Such as preferredcigarettes, suffered the girls to light them at the copper fire-pans.Others, choosing a _shishah_, let the girls fill it from the silverboxes; and soon the grateful vapors of tobacco were rising to blendwith the spiced incense-smoke.

  A more comfortable feeling now possessed the Legionaries. This sharingof tobacco seemed to establish almost an amicable Free Masonry betweenthem and the Jannati Shahr men. All sat and smoked in what seemed afriendly silence.

  The slave-girls silently departed. Others came with huge, silver traysgraven with Koran verses. These trays contained meat-pilafs, swimmingin melted butter; vine leaves filled with chopped mutton; _kababs_,or bits of roast meat spitted on wooden splinters; crisp cucumbers; akind of tasteless bread; a dish that looked like vermicelli sweetenedwith honey; thin jelly, and sweetmeats that tasted strongly ofrosewater. Dates, pomegranates, and areca nuts cut up and mixed withsugar-paste pinned with cloves into a betel leaf--these constitutedthe dessert.

  The Arabs ate with strict decorum, according to their custom,beginning the banquet with a _Bismillah_ of thanks and ending with an_Al Hamd_ that signified repletion. Knives and forks there were none;each man dipped his hand into whatever dish pleased him, as the trayswere passed along. The Legionaries did the same.

  "Rather messy, eh?" commented the major; but no one answered him. Moreserious thoughts than these possessed the others.

  After ablution, once more--this time the white men shared it--tobacco,pomegranate syrup, sherbet, water perfumed with _mastich_-smoke, andthick, black coffee ended the meal.

  The Master requested khat leaves, which were presently broughthim--deliciously green and fresh--in a copper bowl. Then, while theslave-girls removed all traces of the feast, all relaxed for a fewminutes' _kayf_, or utter peace.

  Utter peace, indeed, it seemed. Nothing more soothing could have beenimagined than the soft wooing of repletion and of silken cushions,the dim sunlight through the smoke of incense and tobacco, the gentlebubbling of the water-pipes, the half-
heard courting of pigeonssomewhere aloft in the embrasures of the clerestory windows.

  All possibility of warfare seemed to have vanished. Under the magicspell of this enchanted, golden hall, even the grim Maghrabis, blackand motionless along the tapestried walls, seemed to have sunk to therole of mere spectators.

  The Arabs' glances, though subtly curious, appeared to hold littleanimosity. Now that they had broken bread together, cementing the Oathof the Salt, might not hospitality have become inviolable? True, somelooks of veiled hostility were directed against "Captain Alden's"strangely masked face, as the woman sat there cross-legged like therest, indifferently smoking cigarettes. For what the Arab cannotunderstand is always antipathetic to him. But this hostility wasnot marked. The spirits of the Legion, including those of the Masterhimself, rose with a sense of greater security.

  Even Bohannan, chronic complainer, forgot to cavil and began to baskin contentment.

  "Faith, but this is a good imitation of Lotus-land, after all," hemurmured to Janina, at his side. "I wouldn't mind boarding at thishotel for an indefinite period. Meals excellent; waitresses beatanything on Broadway; atmosphere very restful to wandering gentlemen.Now if I could only get acquainted with one of these lovely Fatimas,and find out where the bar is--the bar of El Barr! Very good! Faith,very good indeed!"

  He laughed at his own witticism and blew perfumed smoke toward thedim, golden roof. But now his attention was riveted by the silententrance of six dancing-girls, that instantly brought him to keenobservation.

  Their dance, barefooted and with a minimum of veils, swayed intosinuous beauty to the monotonous music of kettle-drums, long redflutes and guitars of sand-tortoise shell with goat-skin heads--musicfurnished by a dozen Arabs squatting on their hunkers half-way down thehall. The gracious weaving of those lithe, white bodies of the girlsas they swayed from sunlit filigree to dim shadow, stirred even thecoldest heart among the Legionaries, that of the Master himself. Asfor Bohannan, his cup of joy was brimming.

  The dance ended, one of the girls sang with a little foreign accent,very pleasing to the ears of the Master and Leclairs the famous chantof Kaab el Ahbar:

  A black tent, swayed by the desert wind Is dearer to me, dearer to me Than any palace of the city walls. Dearer to me!

  [1]_And the earth met with rain!_

  A handful of dates, a cup of camel's milk Is dearer to me, dearer to me Than any sweetmeat in the city walls. Dearer to me!

  _And the earth wet with rain!_

  A slender Bedouin maid, freely unveiled Is dearer to me, dearer to me Than harem beauties with henna-stained fingers. My Bedouin maid is slim as the _ishkil_ tree. Dearer to me!

  _And the earth wet with rain!_

  Black tent, swift white mare, camel of Hejaz blood Are dear to me, are dear to me! Dearest is my slim, unveiled one of the desert sands! Dearest to me! Ibla her name is; she blazes like the sun, Like the sun at dawn, with hair like midnight shades, Oh, dear to me! Paradise is in her eyes; and in her breasts, enchantment. Her body yields like the tamarisk, When the soft winds blow over the hills of Nedj! Dearest to me!

  _And the earth wet with rain!_

  [Footnote 1: _W'al arz mablul bi matar._ A favorite refrain for songsamong the Arabs, to whom rain represents all comforts and delights.]

  A little silence followed the ending of the song and the withdrawalof the girls and musicians. The major seemed disposed to call foran encore, but Janina silenced his forthcoming remarks with a sharpnudge. All at once, old Bara Miyan removed the amber stem of thewater-pipe from his bearded lips and said:

  "Now, White Sheik, thou hast eaten of our humble food, and seenour dancing. Thou hast heard our song. Wilt thou also see jugglers,wrestlers, trained apes from Yemen? Or wilt thou take the _kaylulah_(siesta)? Or doth it please thee now to speak of the gifts that myheart offers thee and thine?"

  "Let us speak of the gifts, O Bara Miyan," answered the Master, whileLeclair listened intently and all the Arabs gave close heed. "We havenot many hours more to stay in this paradise of thine. We must beaway to our own Feringistan, in our flying house. Let us speak of thegifts. But first, I would ask thee something."

  "Speak, in Allah's name, and it shall be answered thee!"

  "The salt is still in thy stomach for us?"

  "It is still in my stomach."

  "Thou dost swear that, O Bara Miyan, by a great oath?"

  "By the rising of the stars, which is a great oath!"

  "And by the greatest oath, the honor of thy women?"

  "Yea, Frank, by the honor of my women! But thou and thine, too, havecovenants to keep."

  Old Bara Miyan bent shaggy white brows at the Master, and peered outintently from under the hood of his burnous. The Master queried:

  "What covenants, great Olema?"

  "These: That no harm shall befall Myzab and the Great Pearl Star andthe Black Stone, before thou and thine fly away to the Lands of theBooks. Then, that no blood of our people shall be shed in El Barr,either the city of Jannati Shahr or the plain. These things thou mustunderstand, O Frank. If harm befall the sacred relics, or bloodbe shed, then the salt will depart from my stomach, and we will be_kiman_,[1] and the _thar_[2] will be between thine and mine. I havespoken!"

  [Footnote 1: Kiman, of hostile tribes.]

  [Footnote 2: Thar, the terrible blood-feud of the Arabs.]

  The Master nodded.

  "These things be very clear to my heart," he answered. "They shall betreasured in my memory."

  "It is well. Now speak we of the gifts."

  The fixed attention of the Arabs told the Legionaries, despite theirignorance of Arabic, that at last the important negotiation of thereward was under way. Pipes and cigarettes smoldered, unsmoked; alleyes turned eagerly toward the Master and Bara Miyan. Silence fellupon the banquet-hall, where still the thin, perfumed incense-smokewrithed aloft and where still the motionless Maghrabi men stood inthose ominous lines along the silk-tapestried walls.

  "And what things," began the Olema, "doth thy heart desire, in thiscity of Jannati Shahr? Tell thy wish, and perchance it shall begranted thee!"

  The Master paused, deliberately. Well he understood the psychologicalvalue of slow action in dealing with Orientals. Bargaining, with such,is a fine art. Haste, greed, eagerness defeat themselves.

  Contemplatively the Master chewed a khat leaf, then smiled a verylittle, and asked:

  "Is it permitted to tell thee that this gold, of which thou hastcarved thy city--this gold which to thee is as stones and earth tothe people of Feringistan--hath great value with us?"

  "It is permitted, O Frank. This thing we already know." The old manfrowned ominously. "Dost thou ask gold?"

  The Master nerved himself for the supreme demand, success in whichwould mean fortune beyond all calculation, power and wealth to shameall plutocrats.

  "Gold?" he repeated. "Yea, that is what we ask! Gold! Give unto uswhat gold our flying house can carry hence to our own land beyond thesalted seas, and we will depart. Before the rising of the stars wewill be gone. And the peace be unto thee, O Bara Miyan, master of thegold!"

  Tension as of a wire about to snap contracted the Master's nerves,strong as they were. Leclair leaned forward, his face pale, teeth sethard into his lip.

  "Yea, gold!" the Master repeated with hard-forced calm. "This is thegift we ask of thee, for the Myzab and the holy Black Stone and Kaukabel Durri--the gift of gold!"

 

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