Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  I own I was amazed to find the famous chief so different from his people; and when I realized that we had voluntarily put our lives into the keeping of this old, evil-featured Bega, I began to suspect there was a foundation for the Arab sheik’s persistent croak of danger. Still, as Gege-Merak sat huddled upon his mat, motionless save for that roving, terrible eye, it occurred to me that he was too old and feeble to lead the caravan himself, as he had sent word to us that he would do, and without doubt would delegate the task to some other.

  At our entrance the warriors knelt to their chief and crouched subserviently their foreheads to the mats; but afterward they stood erect in a group at one side. They neither saluted nor appeared to notice the girl at all.

  “So,” said Gege-Merak, in a quiet voice and speaking excellent English. “Here are the travelers who wish to be led to Luxor. What is your errand there?”

  He looked from one to another of us, and I took upon myself to answer him, as the Professor seemed to hesitate.

  “Sir, that is our business alone,” I declared, stiffly. “All that we require from you is your camels, your warriors to guard us, and a guide.”

  “I am rebuked, Effendi,” said he, fixing his small eye upon me with a penetrating gaze, but exhibiting no humility in his tones. After a slight pause: “Do you agree to my price in return for the service you require?”

  “Yes; you are to receive one hundred English pounds.”

  “In advance,” he added, softly.

  “One-half in advance,” said I. “The remainder when we have returned in safety.”

  “Let me see the money.”

  I produced a bag containing fifty gold pounds, and stooping down counted them out upon the mat before him. He watched me silently.

  “Now I will see the other fifty,” he said.

  I began to dislike the chief; but now the Professor said, somewhat to my surprise.

  “Pay him the full amount, Mr. Steele; it will be better that way.”

  “Why?” I asked, turning to him rather angrily.

  “Because the great chief is suspicious of our honesty, and we want him to believe we are honest. Also because Gege-Merak’s word is sacred, and he will be faithful when he is paid. For a third reason, it will be just as well for you not to carry that gold across the desert and back again, when the chief is able to put it away in a safe place before we begin the journey.”

  Gege-Merak listened carefully and it was evident he approved this argument. But he said nothing and merely looked at me inquiringly.

  Of course, if the natives would prove faithful, the Professor’s plan of advance payment was best. After a look toward Uncle Naboth, which he answered with a nod, I drew out another fifty pounds and counted it upon the mat beside the first.

  “Now, Gege-Merak,” said I, “you are paid in full.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  ACROSS THE BLACK MOUNTAINS

  THE CRUEL LITTLE eye of the chief twinkled brightly at sight of all this golden display, but he made no motion to gather it up. Instead, he turned his keen glance first upon me and then upon the others of our party, as if striving to gauge our thoughts and read our secret characters.

  “I will see the other Americans,” he finally said.

  The Professor summoned Ned Britton, Archie, Joe, Bry, and the sailors, and soon they all stood wonderingly before the Bega chief. He examined each one with silent interest, down to the smallest item of attire. He nodded and asked them to again withdraw.

  “Effendi,” said he, addressing me when the others were gone, “you are deceiving me in regard to your errand. Your party is strong and heavily armed. You ask me for brave warriors to assist you, and for my own services as guide. All this is not usual with peaceful traders or travelers who wish to cross the desert to Luxor on an errand of simple business. Another thing. You willingly pay me a big price — more than my service is really worth. Again, you ask for two extra camels, bearing empty saddle-bags. Therefore you have a secret intention you do not reveal to me. The little red-beard’s eyes are bright with fever. You all expect trouble. You may get me mixed with your trouble, so that the authorities will imprison me and scatter my tribe. I am a good subject of the mighty Sultan and our father the Khedive. Therefore I refuse the compact. Take your gold, Effendi, and return to Koser.”

  This speech of the wily chief fairly took away my breath. Uncle Naboth seemed disappointed, and the Professor trembled nervously. I am sure our various emotions were clearly apparent to Gege-Merak, for his roving eye bore an expression of grim amusement.

  It was the Professor who finally answered. He knew the covert disposition of these strange people better than we did.

  “See, then, my brother, how much we trust in your friendship and honesty,” said he. “Our errand is indeed twofold, as you have wisely suspected. One part is to permit the young effendi, Archie Ackley, whom you have just seen, to collect pay for his wares from certain merchants in Luxor. The second part of our errand is to permit me to secure some property belonging to me which I left concealed in a part of the desert near Karnak. Our bargain with you is to guide and escort us safely to these places and enable us to bring back to our ship at Koser the property I have mentioned and young Ackley’s payments from the merchants. For our purpose of transportation the two extra camels will be sufficient. But we shall have no trouble with the authorities, because we intend to commit no crime and break no law of the land. I will not conceal from you the fact that I am at enmity with a miserable Arab sheik named Abdul Hashim, who lives upon the desert near Luxor and who might try to prevent me from securing my property if he knew I had come for it. He does not suspect my journey at present, and I hope to avoid him altogether, since he is just now under the displeasure of the Khedive’s police, which has destroyed his village and scattered his lawless band. But we must go armed in case the Arab dares to molest us, and part of your liberal payment is to fight well for us if there should be need. Also, bands of robbers infest the desert, and we do not wish to be robbed on our journey. So we take all needful precautions. Is the great and wise chief, my brother, now satisfied?”

  Gege-Merak was silent for a time, thoughtfully studying the mat at his feet. Then he replied:

  “I know Abdul Hashim. He is a jackal. I know the police have destroyed his village, as you truly say; but he is rebuilding it. Abdul Hashim has powerful friends, and he will fight his foes in spite of our father the Khedive. If I accept your offer I may lose many camels and men. Also I make a foe forever of Abdul Hashim and his tribe. No; I will not consent; the hundred gold pounds is not enough.”

  He had caught us fairly. I saw plainly enough that we must either abandon the adventure altogether or consent to be robbed at the start by this grasping Bega. The Professor asked permission for us to withdraw and consult together, and we went into the open air to hold a conference.

  Uncle Naboth asked the Professor how much he judged the treasure to be worth. We had already invested a considerable sum in the speculation and were about to risk our lives as well.

  Van Dorn could only estimate the amount of the treasure, of which he had obtained merely a glimpse. But he thought its total value could not possibly equal less than five hundred thousand pounds, or two and a half million dollars in American money. It was well worth doubling the chief’s bribe, he urged, and we all were loth to retreat on the eve of our adventure. We decided to win Gege-Merak’s support at all hazards, and presently stood again in the presence of the chief.

  He sat just as we had left him, with the beautiful, statuesque girl at his side, and the money still spread before him on the mat.

  “Brother,” said the Professor, “we have counselled together and decided that your demands are not unfriendly. For your powerful support, for the risk you take and the assurance that you will stand by us bravely and faithfully, we will double the price first agreed upon. Twenty pounds more we will give you now. It is all the remaining money we brought with us. But upon our return to the ship we will give you
eighty pounds in addition, making two hundred pounds in all. Does this satisfy you?”

  “No,” was the quiet answer. “Give me the twenty pounds and your writing to pay me one hundred and eighty pounds more on our return to the ship and I shall be content. If any of my men are killed in fighting I will say nothing. If any of your party is killed you shall not blame me in any way. Make a writing as I have said and I will be true to you. This is my last word.”

  I groaned in spirit at the necessity, but I tore a leaf from my notebook and with my fountain pen wrote the agreement. Uncle Naboth and the Professor added their signatures to mine. It was a great sum in Egypt, this fifteen hundred dollars, and we had promised not to hold Gege-Merak responsible if any of us lost our lives in the venture. But the Professor assured us we had won a powerful ally and that the investment was warranted by our necessity.

  I gave the Bega chief the paper, which I felt sure he could not read, and counted out our remaining twenty pounds upon the mat. Thereupon he spoke to the girl in his native tongue, for the Bega have a language of their own, although they usually speak a hybrid Arabic. She leaned forward, calmly gathered up the money in her scarf, arose and left the room by the dark passage. She was tall for her age and moved with grace and dignity.

  “At daybreak,” said Gege-Merak, “the caravan will be ready to start. I shall go with you. To-night my brothers will sleep in a house prepared for you. Ketti will lead you to it.”

  The young warrior who had guided us to the village from Koser now came forward and bowed to us respectfully. We nodded farewell to the chief and followed Ketti to a large house of one bare room, where our entire party shortly assembled. Bry had already brought out his pots and pans and soon a good supper was ready for us. Appetites are keen upon the desert, and the evening was already well advanced when we had finished the repast. Soon after, tired by our first day of camel riding, we rolled ourselves in our blankets and fell asleep.

  I was roused even before daybreak by the noise and shouting in the village. Every inhabitant seemed astir and in a state of wild excitement, yet there was nothing for our party to do but fold our blankets and eat the breakfast our black cook quickly served us. At first we stumbled around blindly in the gloom, but gradually the sky grew lighter, until suddenly the first red beams of the sun shot over the edge of the desert. Beside the well and just in front of the chief’s house the camels were assembled, all bridled and saddled and ready for the journey. We took the beasts assigned us and mounted to our places while the obedient creatures knelt to receive their burdens. The entire population of the village stood around, silent now, but observant, to watch the start.

  When we were ready I noticed that two of the camels still knelt awaiting their riders. They bore gorgeous trappings, the saddles being studded with brass and silver ornaments. The delay was brief, for soon the little old chief came from his house, followed by the girl we had seen the night before.

  I had wondered how Gege-Merak, who had seemed to be nothing more than a withered, dried-up mummy, could by any possibility be able to lead the caravan in person; but now, to my surprise, he advanced with swift steps, agile and light as the tread of a panther, and seated himself upon his kneeling camel. His one bright eye roved over the assembled villagers, who all prostrated themselves an instant before resuming their former upright positions. The chief was clad in the same bright colored burnous he had worn the night before. An old-fashioned pistol was stuck in his sash and at his side hung a Turkish cimetar with a jeweled handle. When his camel had risen to its feet Gage-Merak made a brief speech to the villagers and gave the signal to start.

  The girl, meantime, had quietly mounted the other camel and taken her place beside the chief. No one saluted her or seemed to notice her presence, yet to me she was scarcely less interesting than her aged companion. The Bega women were numerous in the village, were generally good looking and bold in their demeanor, yet the warriors seemed to make a point of disregarding them altogether, as if the sex was wholly unworthy of masculine attention. It seemed to be a Bega characteristic and partly explained why the chief’s companion was so generally ignored, but I was curious to know something of the girl who was to accompany us. So as we rode slowly away from the oasis, I asked Ketti, who was near me, who she was.

  “Gege-Merak’s grandchild,” was the answer, and I thought the young warrior’s eyes rested for an instant upon the young girl with a gleam of admiration.

  “Will she succeed the chief, when he dies?” I inquired.

  “No, Effendi. Iva is but a woman. Only a man becomes chief of a Bega tribe.”

  “I see. In our country, Ketti, a woman is considered equal to a man.”

  He made no reply to the observation and after a moment I continued:

  “Tell me, then, why does Iva ride with us on this journey?”

  He frowned, glancing around sharply to see that we were not overheard. But we had ridden quite out of earshot.

  “Effendi, we speak little of such matters, but it is the superstition of Gege-Merak. He believes that he will live as long as his grandchild lives, but no longer. If she dies, then he will die. Allah has decreed it. For this reason the chief does not dare to leave her behind, lest some harm happen to her.”

  I laughed at this explanation, but the warrior’s face was grave. He was by far the handsomest and most intelligent of our escort, and his dignified and straightforward expression attracted me toward him.

  “Always the chief does not treat Iva well,” he added, as if to himself, as he glanced again to where the oddly mated couple rode at the head of the caravan. “Her health he guards, because he is selfish; but he makes the girl his slave.”

  It occurred to me I had been right in guessing that the young man entertained a tender feeling toward Iva. But I could scarcely blame him. She was very attractive.

  We made toward a dim ridge of mountains that showed at the southeast and during the day drew gradually nearer to them. At night we encamped in the foothills. The rocks were bare and of a black color, and the surrounding landscape was wholly uninviting. Just beyond us the hills grew to mountains, which formed a seemingly endless range.

  “Do we climb those peaks?” I asked the chief, as our followers prepared the camp.

  “There are passes between them, which we follow for two days,” he answered, briefly. Ketti told me they were the Hammemat Mountains, composed of a hard, dark stone called breccia, and that the ancient Egyptians had quarries here, using the stone to form their statues from.

  From this first night the native and American camps were separate. The Begas pitched low tents for our use, but on their side only one tent, for the use of Iva, was set up. The men, including the aged chief, when they slept simply rolled themselves in their abayeh or ragged blankets and lay down upon the sand.

  Bryonia, having brought a couple of sacks of charcoal from Koser to use for fuel, managed to cook us a good supper. The Bega did no cooking, but satisfied their hunger with hard bread and dried goat’s flesh, washed down with a swallow or two of tepid water. We invited Gege-Merak and Iva to join us at our meal, but the chief curtly refused.

  “I eat with my people,” he said.

  This action seemed to worry the Professor and his face grew anxious and thoughtful.

  “If Gege-Merak had broken bread with us, or eaten of our salt,” he remarked, “we might have depended upon his faithfulness at all times. It is a rather suspicious circumstance, to my mind, that he refuses to join us.”

  “I don’t trust him at all,” said I.

  “Nor do I,” added Uncle Naboth. “Seemed to me, first time I spotted the rascal, that he was playin’ a deep game. Don’t you think it was foolish, Professor, to pay him all that money?”

  “Not at all. If we had refused to pay it he might have robbed us of it on the journey. Now he knows he can get nothing more from us until we return to the ship. That will be our salvation, I imagine. To get the balance of his payment he’ll be sure to return.”

  “
But he doesn’t agree to bring us all back with him,” observed Archie, musingly. “He’ll be entitled to the money, just the same, if a few of us are killed.”

  “That matter,” said Ned Britton, grimly, “we must attend to ourselves. There are nine o’ us to six o’ them copperheads, for the girl don’t count. So I guess they’ll think twice afore they attack us.”

  “I don’t fear any open rupture,” replied Van Dorn, with a moody glance toward the Bega camp. “What we must guard against is treachery. If the chief had eaten with us I should have feared nothing; but I know the ways of these Begas, and it will be best for us to set a guard every night while we sleep.”

  “Why, there’s nothing to murder us for at present,” I objected. “When we get the treasure, if we ever do, it will be another matter. Just now — ”

  “Jest now,” interrupted Uncle Naboth, “we’ll keep on the safe side and take the Perfessor’s hint. Snakes is snakes, an’ you can’t tell when they’re a-goin’ to strike. Let’s set a watch nights, from now on.”

  The suggestion was a reasonable one, and we determined to follow it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  DEEP IN THE DESERT SANDS

  THE SECOND DAY’S journey was through wild passes of the Hammemat, among which we might easily have become bewildered and lost our way had not Gege-Merak’s knowledge of the mountains enabled him to guide us accurately. We passed an old Egyptian mine and, soon after, the quarries which they had abandoned centuries ago, and at evening came to the famous well of Bir-Hammemat, the curb of which is sixteen feet in diameter. Here we made our camp, and so wild was the spot that we kept a constant though secret watch throughout the night. The Bega, however, seemed to harbor no thoughts of treachery, and although they made their camp on the opposite side of the well from our own they neither by look nor action gave us cause to suspect their loyalty.