“Gege-Merak must die!” growled the little Professor, through his teeth. His face was pale and his eyes were glittering with excitement.
Some of us breathed deeply; but none made reply in words. I dreaded the necessity as much as any one could, but saw clearly that the chief’s death was inevitable. It meant not only our protection, but perhaps our salvation. We were now burdened with too vast a store of wealth to be safe on the desert for a single moment, if Gege-Merak was to be at large to dog our steps. We now implored the Professor to return the papyrus rolls to the cavity and take instead more of the treasure; but Van Dorn obstinately refused. “It is my own share, and you have agreed I should take it,” said he. “There are millions in gold and precious gems, besides; isn’t that enough to satisfy you?”
“But this may be our last chance at the treasure,” replied Uncle Naboth, anxiously.
The Professor gave him a queer look. It seemed defiant and half threatening, but a moment later he dropped his head to resume his work.
“That’s nonsense,” he snapped, wrathfully. “The stuff has lain here for ages, and what we now leave will remain in safety until we can come again — unless we give Gege-Merak a chance to grab it. We mustn’t do that, gentlemen. If the chief lives he will never allow us to reach the ship again; you may be sure of that. We’ve had evidence already of his grasping disposition. It’s our lives against his, now, and we must not hesitate to save ourselves.”
“Bring the chief here, Cunningham,” called Uncle Naboth, peering through the gloom where our sailor sat upon the sand guarding his prisoner. Cunningham did not move, and Uncle Naboth called again. Then Joe ran across to him, bent over, and gave a cry that raised us all to our feet in an instant.
“The man’s dead!” he shouted. “Gege-Merak is gone!”
It was true enough. The wily chief had managed to slip his bonds and plunge a knife to the heart of his unsuspecting guard before he crawled away into the night and escaped.
We were horrified at the disaster. Our fears had now become realities, and as we looked gravely into one another’s eyes under the dim stars we realized that our lives were in deadly peril.
“You’re a lot of clods — of duffers — of fools!” screamed the Professor, stamping the ground in furious rage. “You deserve to die for being so clumsy; you deserve to lose the treasure you are not clever enough to guard! Bah! to think I have leagued myself with idiots!”
Archie grabbed him by the shoulder and gave him a good shaking.
“Shut up, you red-whiskered ape!” he said, menacingly. “Keep a civil tongue in your head, or I’ll skin you alive!”
We were all irritated and unnerved, and I tried to quiet both Archie and Van Dorn, and to bring them to a more reasonable frame of mind.
“It’s no use crying over spilt milk,” said I. “Let’s face the peril like men, and do our best to get the treasure safely to the ship. Even if Gege-Merak gets the rest, we have a fortune already.”
“He’ll get that, too,” groaned the Professor. “The chief has more cunning than the whole crowd of you.”
The two camels were now heavily loaded with the sealed canvas sacks containing the treasure and the library of historic papyri. We next strapped the four panniers to the two beasts — one on either side of each camel — and Van Dorn with the remainder of his wax smeared the buckles so that if the panniers were opened or tampered with we should speedily know the fact. He did not trust us wholly, it seemed, nor did we fully trust him. The man had been acting ugly of late, and the fact that we had no chance to examine any of the treasure we had so quickly thrust into the sacks made it necessary that the seals remain intact until we could open them in safety and in each other’s presence.
Having now secured all of the ancient deposit of wealth that we could carry, we held a solemn conference to determine our future movements. The Professor, who had calmed down somewhat but was still sullen, admitted that with proper caution we might find our way back to Koser over the same route by which we had come. The only puzzling part of the trail was that which lay through the intricate passes of the Hammemat mountains, and we were willing to chance finding the right path because we had no option but to undertake the risk. From being our guide Gege-Merak had now become our most dreaded foe. We were better armed than the chief’s band, and outnumbered it, although three of our party were only boys. Aside from an ambush or an unexpected addition to the chief’s party we might hope to hold our own against him in a declared warfare.
If we could have started at once on our return journey our chances of reaching the Seagull in safety might have been better; but it was necessary for Archie to visit Luxor and deliver his father’s goods to the merchants who had ordered them, and to receive payment on delivery. This necessitated a delay which could not be avoided even under the present trying circumstances.
Van Dorn assured us that by morning we could plainly see the outlines of Karnak and Luxor across the desert, and he said the journey could be made in three hours. If Archie started at daybreak he could reach Luxor in time for breakfast and by concluding his business as soon as possible ought to be able to rejoin our party by noon.
But Archie did not relish going alone upon this mission, and I had grown to like the young fellow so well that I offered to accompany him. It was decided all of us should move around the base of Tel-Ambra, after concealing every trace of our visit to the pit, and there encamp to await our return from Luxor.
We had to bury poor Cunningham in the sand; but we dug him a deep grave and wrapped him in two blankets in lieu of a proper coffin. The stone having been dropped to cover the cavity and the sand piled in and smoothed above it, we marched across to Tel-Ambra and came to a halt well on the other side of it. Here we speedily made camp and appointed Bryonia and Ned Britton to watch while we lay down to sleep.
I was so excited by the occurrences of the night that I could not compose myself to slumber for some time, but lay awake and watched Van Dorn, who, also restless, paced up and down in the sands, apparently in deep thought. He had grown moody and unsociable, and since his violent exhibition of temper I had come to dislike him more than ever.
When dawn came creeping over the desert I sprang up and aroused Archie. The others were mostly awake, I found, and while we munched a little food Joe came to me and begged to travel to Luxor in our company.
Ned Britton, who had now assumed military command of our party, thought there would be no greater danger to the others and more safety to Archie and me if Joe accompanied us; so Uncle Naboth’s consent was obtained and we three mounted our camels and set off at a brisk pace toward Luxor, the outlines of which city the Professor pointed out.
The morning air of the desert was crisp and invigorating, and so fresh were our camels that in two and a half hours we reached the Karnak road and soon after clattered into the streets of Luxor.
It is an odd town, a mingling of the modern and ancient. On the bank of the Nile stands the ruin of the great temple so famous in history, its many rows of lotus-capped columns rising toward the sky in magnificent array. Beside the monster temple is a litter of mud huts; across the way is the wall surrounding the fine modern Hotel Luxor, and against this wall on all sides are rows of booths occupied by the Greek, Syrian, and Arab merchants as bazars.
When we arrived and inquired for the merchants with whom Archie was to deal, we found their shops still closed; so we entered the grounds of the hotel, left our camels at the stables, hired a dray to fetch Archie’s boxes from the railway station, and then treated ourselves to a good breakfast served in civilized fashion. By the time it was finished the boxes were waiting in a cart outside, and the merchants, we found, had arrived at their shops and were anxious to examine the goods.
We realized the necessity of making haste and so accepted the invitation of a Syrian dealer to open our boxes in a big vacant room back of his bazar. We admitted only the two men who had ordered the goods, although a group of curious natives wished to enter with us, and soo
n Archie, Joe, and I had the cases open and the goods spread out for examination.
The Syrian and his fellow merchant, a gray-bearded Greek, gravely inspected and approved the clever imitations of ancient scarabs, charms, figures, urns, and the like, that had been “made in America” to deceive American tourists in Egypt; but when Archie demanded to be paid the price agreed upon they both demurred, claiming the trinkets were not worth the sum asked.
Archie was indignant and threatened to box up the goods again and ship them to Cairo; and then began the inevitable bargaining that is so tedious but necessary in dealing with the Egyptians.
While my friend, who proved no unskillful bargainer, was engaged in this occupation I chanced to glance toward the one dirty window in the place and saw a man standing outside who instantly riveted my attention. He was tall and stately, with a calm, handsome face and steady eyes, and while he gazed in upon us it suddenly flashed across me that I had seen this Arab before — standing on the quay at Alexandria and staring at the Seagull as we had sailed out of the harbor.
Yes; it was indeed Abdul Hashim, the Professor’s most bitter enemy; and as this fact was revealed to me I remembered the peril of our friends awaiting us on the desert and turned impatiently to Archie to ask him to hasten.
As I spoke the eyes of the Arab outside turned toward mine and, perhaps seeing my glance of recognition, he turned and disappeared.
“Archie,” I said in a low voice, “for heaven’s sake end this squabbling. Too much depends on our prompt return to quarrel over a few beastly piasters.”
He seemed to realize this, for he quickly closed with the offers of the merchants and they paid him the sum he had agreed to take in English bank notes and gold. While the money was being counted out I saw Abdul Hashim again at the window, his greedy eyes feasting upon the money; and this made me more nervous than before. I quickly made my way outside and moved around to the window, but the Arab had disappeared and I failed to find him in any of the neighboring streets.
I told Archie and Joe of my discovery, and that Abdul Hashim had seen us receive the money. The tale alarmed my friends, but after a moment’s thought Archie decided what to do.
We went at once to Cook’s banking office, which was in the hotel building, and there Archie exchanged his gold and notes for a draft on the bank’s American correspondents, for the full amount. The paper he placed in his stocking, flat on the sole of his foot, and then he drew on his boot with a sigh of relief.
“If it is stolen,” said he, “no one can cash it but my father; but I’d like to see the Arab or Bega clever enough to find the draft where I’ve hidden it. Come on, boys; we’re free now; so let’s hurry back to our party and the treasure.”
The camels had been watered and fed by the hotel attendants, and we hastened to mount them and start on our return journey. As we left the town it was a little after eleven o’clock, for much valuable time had been consumed in settling Archie’s business.
“But it’s what I came to Egypt for,” said he, “and father would be wild if I neglected the business he sent me on, even to get a share of that treasure. As it is I’m afraid he’ll think me a poor hand at a bargain, to take less than was agreed upon.”
“There’s no trusting to the word of these native merchants,” I remarked, as we sped away over the sands. “How much did you manage to get for that rubbish, Archie?”
“About twenty-five hundred dollars. But I ought to have had three thousand.”
“And what did it cost to make the stuff?” I inquired, curiously.
“Oh, the material is mostly mud, you know; but the molds and the workmanship are expensive. With the freight and my own expenses added, the finished product cost us nearly nine hundred dollars.”
“Not a bad deal, then,” said I, with a laugh. “Your father will find himself a bit richer, anyhow.”
“But think of what those rascally merchants will make!” he exclaimed indignantly. “The scarabs, which cost them about half a cent each, they’ll sell for twenty piasters — and that’s a whole dollar!”
“Say, boys,” observed Joe, quietly, “we’re being followed.”
We turned quickly in our saddles at this startling news, and a glance told us Joe was right. Coming toward us in a cloud of dust, from the direction of Luxor, were several camels and donkeys. Already they were near enough for us to see that they were ridden by a band of Arabs, who were urging the animals to their best speed.
We pricked up our camels with the sharpened sticks provided for that purpose, and with groans of protest the supple beasts threw out their hoofs and fairly flew over the sands.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ABDUL HASHIM EXPLAINS
FAR AHEAD WE could see the outlines of Tel-Ambra standing clear against the blue sky, and toward this we headed, for our friends would be there awaiting us.
Our pursuers also redoubled their pace, and it became a set race in which only the endurance of our animals was of importance. The camels we rode were among the best of Gege-Merak’s herd, and we saw with satisfaction that they could easily keep the distance between ourselves and the Arabs.
Gradually the mound grew nearer and we strained our eyes to discover Uncle Naboth and his party, who should be near its base. Perhaps they were on the other side and had not observed our approach. The quick pace was beginning to tell on our camels, which all breathed heavily; but on we dashed at full speed, for the remaining distance was short.
We reached the base of the hill, skirted it without slacking rein, and then with a sense of dismay realized that we were alone upon the desert — save for that grim and relentless band following in our wake. Uncle Naboth, the Professor, Ned Britton, the sailors and Bry — even the camels with the treasure — had all been swallowed up by the mysterious waste of sands.
And now we three boys, left to our fate, must show the mettle we were made of. We halted our panting camels, backed them against a rocky cliff of Tel-Ambra, and hastily unslung our repeating rifles.
“Don’t let us be captured without a struggle, boys,” I exclaimed.
“We’ll fight while there’s a bullet left or a breath in us,” responded Archie, promptly.
“All right, fellows, if you say so,” said Joe, strapping on his cartridge belt; “but it seems to me you’re making a mistake.”
“How so?” I asked, rather indignantly.
“Look at them,” said Joe. The Arabs had halted just out of range, but we could count their numbers now. “There are about twenty of the rascals, and they’re all armed. We can’t hope to beat them in a fight. We can kill a few, of course, but they’ll down us in the end. And what then? Why, they’ll be mad as hornets, and want revenge. It’s natural. But as it now stands we are not the enemies of these heathens, as I can see, having had no dealings with them. I understand they want to rob us, for they think we’ve got the money those merchants paid Archie — that beast Abdul Hashim is at the head of them. But if we submit quietly to being searched they won’t find any money and they’ll scarcely dare kill us for disappointing them.”
“I don’t know about that,” said Archie, eyeing the foe fiercely. “I’ve heard Van Dorn say these Arabs will kill a Christian as calmly as they’ll eat a dinner. They think a good Mahommedan will gain paradise by killing an infidel dog. And besides that, if they try to rob us and then let us go our ways, they’ll be afraid we will make trouble for them with the police. No, Joe; it’s robbery they mean first, and murder afterward; you can rely upon that.”
“Maybe so, sir,” answered Joe. “But I was just looking for our one chance. To fight means sure death; to give in quietly means a hope for life — not a great hope, sir, but one just big enough to hang your hat on. If you say fight, I’m with you. If you say be foxy and try diplomacy, I’ll like it better.”
“Humph!” said I, partly convinced. “Perhaps Joe’s right.”
“I’m sure he is,” responded Archie, frankly. “But I hate to see those beggars down us so easily.”
&
nbsp; “Discretion is the better part of valor,” I quoted, pompously; yet I longed to fight, too.
“We aren’t giving in, fellows,” declared Joe; “we’re just playing our best cards in the game, and it isn’t our fault if we don’t hold all trumps. Come on; don’t let’s act like cowards, or even whipped curs. Let’s go to meet them — and, say, put up your rifles. We won’t show any force, but try to smile and look pleasant.”
The Arabs had been conversing together, evidently trying to decide how to attack us. They knew if they came within range of our rifles some of them would be shot down, and since they now had us safely snared they might take time to figure out the problem.
Had there been any hope of our overtaking our friends I should have advised keeping the Arabs at bay as long as possible. But as far as the eye could reach, in every direction, the desert was deserted save by the two groups at Tel-Ambra. What, I questioned, anxiously, could have induced my uncle and Ned Britton to desert us? Such an act was wholly unlike them, and there must indeed have been a powerful reason behind it. At present it was all a profound mystery to us, and we had no time to make an attempt to unravel the web.
Thinking Joe’s counsel good, in the circumstances, we started our camels and advanced leisurely toward the Arabs. They were startled at first, expecting a fight; then, as they saw our rifles slung over our shoulders, they became puzzled by our audacity and amazed at our boldness. But they stood in a motionless group awaiting our approach, and as we drew near to them I, being slightly in advance of the other two, said in a voice which I strove to render calm:
“Good day, gentlemen. Can you tell us the way to the village of Laketa? I’m afraid we’ve missed the trail.”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 676
