“Iva?”
“Yes. She’s a pretty girl, Sam, and ain’t to blame in this matter, as I can see; so we hated to harm her. Another thing, we ain’t so used to shootin’ folks for a bit o’ money as these villains is. So all day we chased ol’ Gege through the hills, an’ towards dark we were a long way ahead o’ here, past the next stretch o’ desert beyond, and well into the black mountains. Then, to our surprise, instead o’ keepin’ in the trail, the chief and his party turned aside into a narrer path an’ rode plumb into a blind ravine, where they made camp.
“I couldn’t understan’ the whys an’ wherefores of this, at first, but Ned an’ I figgered out that the foxey ol’ chief, or the Perfessor, or both, didn’t care to get any nearer to Koser with that treasure while we were hot on their track. They mean to stop in that canyon until they can get rid o’ us, some way or ‘nuther; for to let us chase’ em into the settlement, or to get there first an’ warn the police, would mean that they’d have to give up the boodle, sure thing, an’ p’raps render an account for killin’ poor Cunningham.
“We watched the mouth of that ravine all night, but couldn’t get any nearer the thieves ‘cause one man, well armed, can stand in that narrer place between the rocks an’ keep off an army. This mornin’ we decided we’d go back an’ find you boys, for you’ve been on my mind a good deal an’ I’ve worried about you. So I’m mighty glad to find you so soon, safe an’ well.”
This story was as perplexing as it was interesting. I tried to understand the policy of the Professor’s strange desertion.
“Why, uncle, do you think Van Dorn preferred to deal with the Bega chief rather than remain faithful to us?”
“There’s several things to explain it, Sam. 01’ Gege knew the secret, first an’ foremost, an’ the Perfessor reckoned we could never get to Koser alive an’ with the treasure as long as the chief was agin us an’ hankerin’ to get his fists on them jewels an’ things. Van Dorn had agreed to give us half of all the treasure, exceptin’ the rolls of writin’, an’ if he stuck to his bargain with us ol’ Gege might capture the outfit, bein’ stronger than we are an’ knowin’ the country better. On the contrary, if Van Dorn deserted an’ went over to the chief, he could make the same terms with him an’ stand a better chance of gettin’ out safe. Mebbe he’s got a plan to return for the rest of the treasure, an’ mebbe his idea is to take it to Luxor, so’s to keep out of our way. Anyhow, the Perfessor’s a low-down villain, Sam, an’ he’s tryin’ to feather his own nest at our expense. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he’s plottin’ right now how to kill us all, so’s to make himself safe. You see, he an’ Gege has that paper, signed by us, sayin’ we don’t hold anyone responsible if we’re killed in this adventure. That was a great mistake, Sam; we hadn’t ought to ‘a’ signed it, at all.”
“But Van Dorn wouldn’t dare go to the ship and face my father,” said I.
“Of course not. His plan would be to find some other vessel to carry his plunder away from Egypt. He’s cunning as a weasel, that Perfessor, an’ vile as a skunk.”
I thought it a good time to relate to our friends the story of Van Dorn’s treachery to Lovelace Pasha, as told us by the Arab sheik; and they all agreed that Abdul Hashim’s version was likely to be true, and that the “red-beard” had been a scoundrel from the beginning of his connection with the affair, plotting to get the treasure away from both the explorer and the sheik, in case it was discovered. We were sorry Abdul Hashim had been killed, but his coldblooded attempt to murder us had led to his own undoing, and he was now out of the running for good and all. The Arab might have possessed some manly instincts, and perhaps was a better man than Van Dorn, if the two could be compared; but his hatred of the white infidels made him as dangerous as the other, and we felt that one desperate enemy, at least, had been removed from our path.
“I wish he could have lived long enough to meet the Professor once more,” said I, with a sigh; “but fate has robbed the poor devil of even his revenge.”
We buried him among the rocks, to keep the jackals from preying upon his body, and mounted our camels to ride toward the place where Gege-Merak was encamped.
There was little need of haste now. The chief did not wish to escape us, it seemed, anymore than we wished him to escape. The treasure was a magnet that drew both parties toward it irresistibly, and in order to possess it we must isolate ourselves in these mountains until we had fought the matter out and one side or the other became the victor.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE MAD CAMEL
BEYOND THE OLD Roman well, which had this morning witnessed so strange a tragedy, there lay, as you will remember, a stretch of sandy desert some five miles in extent, beyond which rose the black breccia cliffs of the Hammemat Mountains. It was in a rift of these cliffs that Gege-Merak had established himself.
We were proceeding leisurely across the sands and had come near enough to the edge of the mountain to note well its defiles, when our attention was arrested by a strange occurrence. A camel came racing at full speed from the hill path and dashed out upon the flat desert where we rode. For a short distance the beast made straight toward us, and we could see a rider clinging to its back — a huddled up figure dressed in a green and scarlet robe.
“It’s Iva!” cried Archie, astonished, and at the same moment the dress also enabled me to recognize the chief’s granddaughter.
Even as my friend spoke, the camel swerved and commenced running in a circle, scattering the sand in clouds as it bounded along in great leaps. The girl huddled lower, clinging desperately to her seat as the seemingly infuriated beast continued on its wild career.
“Why, the camel’s mad!” I exclaimed, remembering the tales of mad camels I had heard related, and seeing in the animal’s erratic actions the solution of the mystery.
There was no doubt of it now. The huge beast ran here and there in an aimless manner, never slacking its terrific speed, but darting first this way and then that, and finally renewing the circular course that was the clearest proof of its crazed condition.
Our party had halted involuntarily to watch the strange scene, but I felt that the girl was in serious danger and urged my camel forward without any clear idea of how I could render her assistance. In a moment I found that Archie and Joe had both joined me; pricking our animals to a faster pace we rode straight for the place where the mad camel was performing his capricious pranks. Suddenly the beast stopped — so abruptly that Iva flew over its head and landed in the sand twenty feet or more away. She seemed unhurt by the fall, for instantly she was on her feet and, picking up her skirt, ran toward us with the speed of a deer. At the same time the mad brute’s eye caught the flash of her gaudy robe and, with a loud bellow, he darted after her flying figure.
For a second my heart was in my throat. Then I jabbed the pointed stick into the flank of my camel and shouted:
“Quick, boys — keep close together and run the beast down!”
It was a desperate act, but Iva’s peril was imminent. Even the lion in his jungle is not more terrible to face than a mad camel, and in a few moments the girl might have been trampled into a shapeless mass by the feet of the frenzied animal.
Riding so close together that the flanks of the three camels touched, we dashed swiftly on. Iva saw us, and, almost as we were upon her, turned and darted to one side. Her camel had also marked us, but with elevated head and flashing eyes, its hoofs spreading in the air as it bounded along, it made no attempt to pause. Next moment we came together and struck with the force of a catapult, the impact being so great that I sailed skyward and alighted — fortunately on my feet — several yards away. Archie and Joe also took croppers, and as soon as we recovered ourselves we looked toward the camels. They were all in a bunch at first. The mad one was down, and also one of the others, while the remaining two were stamping on them with terrific blows from their powerful feet.
It was a camel fight then, sure enough, for it is the instinct of these creatures to destroy o
ne of its kind if it becomes crazed and runs amuck; and Archie’s camel, having tumbled down, would have suffered severely from the indiscriminate attack of its companions had it not found a chance to rise and join them against the real offender.
When, finally, the mad one lay crushed and motionless upon the sands, the others quieted down and stood meekly awaiting us to come and remount them.
Meantime Ned Britton, who followed close behind us, had leaped down and caught up the terrified girl, and when I looked to see what had become of her I found her seated upon Ned’s steed with our big mate beside her, while he strove to quiet her fears and agitation by smoothing her hair with his rough hand.
Heretofore Iva had been sullen and silent, keeping by the side of the old chief, her grandfather, like a shadow and seeming to lack any interest in her surroundings. But now, as we gathered around her with sympathetic faces, she became animated and frank, thanking us very sweetly and with evident gratitude for coming to her rescue.
“But how did it happen, Iva?” I asked. “Why did you leave Gege-Merak?”
She drew back with a sober look; then, impulsively, she said:
“I will tell you all, for Ketti says you are honest and good, and I know my grandfather to be cruel and wicked.”
The speech astonished us, but the girl continued, quickly:
“Ketti has quarreled with his chief, and he is in disgrace — Ketti, who will be chief after my grandfather dies!”
“Will he, Iva?” I asked. “Is Ketti to be the next chief?”
“Yes; it is his right,” she answered, proudly; “and that is why Gege-Merak hates him. But Ketti is good, and when he is chief I am to marry him.”
“Bravo, Iva!” cried Archie. “Ketti is the best fellow in your gang, to my notion.”
“I think so, too,” said I. “But go on with your story, Iva.”
“The red-beard offered to give our chief half the treasure he has found if Gege-Merak will kill you all. My grandfather has promised to do so, but the men we brought from Laketa are cowards and do not dare to kill the Americans, and we have not enough men to be sure we will beat you in a fight. So the chief sent me back to our village to get all of the fighting men of our tribe and bring them to join him in yonder valley.”
“A very pretty plan,” remarked Uncle Naboth.
“That was why Ketti quarreled,” said the girl. “He said you must not be killed, for if we injured you the whole tribe would suffer, and perhaps be destroyed. Ketti does not care for treasure; he says it makes our people thieves and jackals; and he wants to live honestly and in peace, as our forefathers did. There was another thing, too, Effendi. The chief also plots to kill Red-beard, now that he is in our power, and to keep to himself all the treasure. Ketti told my grandfather that was not right, for we had given Redbeard our word, and the word of a Bega chief should be an honest word, and never false.”
“It won’t hurt the Perfessor to kill him,” observed Uncle Naboth reflectively. “The dum-sizzled scoundrel deserves several kinds of deaths, as a matter of justice.”
Iva did not know how to take this speech, but, after looking at my uncle in grave protest, she continued:
“So Ketti was disgraced — he, the bravest of our tribe! — and the chief, my grandfather, commanded me to ride to the village for our warriors, because I could not fight if you attacked him, and I knew well the way. He made me take Sekkat, our swiftest camel, although Sekkat has been acting strangely for two days. There is Sekkat,” she continued, pointing to the crushed remains of the beast that had so nearly destroyed her. “No sooner had I ridden out of the valley where the camp is than I understood that Sekkat was mad. I tried to turn him, and he rushed down the path and out upon the desert. The rest of my story you know, Effendi, and I thank you again for saving my life. Ketti also will thank you,” she continued, with a proud look at us.
“But Ketti is disgraced,” I said, smiling.
Her eyes flashed at this and her brow grew dark and fierce.
“Not for long will Ketti bow to any man’s anger!” she cried. Looking about us with an air imperious as that of any queen, she added: “Come with me, brave Amerikani! I will show you how to save both Ketti and yourselves, even as you have saved me. More; you shall save Redbeard and his treasure, too.”
That last promise was not necessary, but we accepted it with the rest, and that right joyously, as you may imagine.
“What is your plan, Iva?” I asked, as we once more put our camels in motion and rode toward the black cliffs of the mountain.
“Wait; you will see,” she replied, setting her lips firmly together. So much were we impressed by this girl’s courage and frankly avowed friendship that we followed her lead blindly, questioning her no more.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
IVA
IT SOON BECAME evident to us that Iva knew this country intimately. She abandoned the clearly outlined entrance to the pass through which we had come on our way from Koser, and led us around to the less promising cliffs at the left. An hour’s ride brought us to a ravine we had not before noticed, and silently we entered this and rode among boulders and loose stones until the steep rocky sides closed in on us and we could proceed no farther. Then we dismounted and picketed our camels. Taking only our rifles and ammunition with us, we followed the Bega girl up a dizzy and difficult path that one would have judged, at first sight, it was impossible to scale. But Iva, mounting light as an antelope, seemed sure of her way, and where she went we could not well hesitate to follow.
The perilous climb brought us to the top of the cliff — a rocky ridge, narrow and uneven, with peaks here and there that shot their points still farther toward the sky. Presently the girl paused and looked over the edge and dropped lightly into a pocket-like hollow of the inner cliff — a place that reminded me of an upper box in a theatre.
Here, quite protected from observation, we could look down upon the ravine in which Gege-Merak and his men were encamped. Just beyond the pass we could see the two tall warriors who were guarding its entrance, so we had approached the ravine from the rear.
The cunning old chief had chosen his retreat well. On all sides were smooth walls of black breccia, where not even a mountain goat could have found a foothold. Only at the entrance was there any cleft that allowed one to enter or leave the place. The camels stood grouped at one end, and the four panniers containing the treasure of the priests of Karnak had been piled upon a rocky table and were guarded by one of Gege-Merak’s own men. The ravine was perhaps eighty feet wide by some three hundred feet long, and several of the low, spreading Bedouin tents had been pitched just underneath the hollow wherein we lay.
The chief and all his company, except the guards I have mentioned, must have been congregated under these tents when we arrived at our point of observation, and for more than an hour we lay there patiently attentive without seeing any evidence of life in the camp below. We supposed that Iva’s adventure was unknown to them, shut in as they were, and doubtless the chief believed her even then to be speeding toward his village to bring back reinforcements of fighting men.
But Gege-Merak had no intention of remaining idle in the meantime, as we were soon to observe. For at last the Bega began to stream out of the chief’s tent, and among them came Van Dorn, his arms bound close to his sides and a big warrior now leading, now pushing him along.
The Professor seemed weak and unnerved, for he stumbled among the loose stones that littered the way and would have fallen more than once had not his guard steadied him. His head was bare and his clothing torn in many places. Doubtless the fellow had struggled desperately before he had finally been secured.
They led Van Dorn to the end of the ravine opposite us and placed him with his back against the rock. The Bega and the Bisharin from Laketa, all animated and talking eagerly in their native tongue, formed a group fifty yards away. Prominent amongst them we could see the dwarfed, withered form of the aged chief, and the stalwart, towering figure of Ketti.
Geg
e-Merak gave an order and a man stepped forward and leveled his rifle at the Professor. Before he could fire, Van Dorn shrieked in terror and dropped to the ground. They raised him again, cuffing and shaking him until once more he stood upright. Yet he trembled visibly. Again the Bega warrior raised his rifle, but, answering the victim’s pitiful screams, Ketti now sprang before the man and wrenched away his weapon, protesting — so loudly that his voice reached even to our high nest on the cliff — against the deed the chief had ordered.
Gege-Merak fairly danced with rage at this defiance. He gave a command which at first his men seemed reluctant to execute, but finally two of them approached Ketti, seized him and drew him away, binding his arms to his sides. Iva was frantic at this act, and we had to warn her several times to be quiet or we should surely be discovered by those below.
It was while I was busy soothing Iva that I heard a shot and a cry of agony, and turned in time to see Van Dorn fall flat upon his face. Poor fellow, the treasure had cost him his life. However treacherous he had been in his dealings with Lovelace, with Abdul Hashim and with us, his final alliance with old Gege-Merak had brought him into contact with a nature as unscrupulous as his own, and the barbaric chief had evened up all scores by robbing the man of his ill-gotten wealth and his life at once.
But it seemed that Gege-Merak’s vengeance was not yet complete, and we could see from the tense and strained attitudes of the warriors that Van Dorn’s death was but an incident in the drama. If, indeed, the chief had cause to hate Ketti, that young man’s rash interference with his commands had given Gege-Merak the chance, perhaps long desired, to punish him. It may be he lived in fear of the handsome fellow who was destined to succeed him at his death, for Ketti’s popularity with the tribe was indisputable. Anyway, his orders, now given in a firm, loud voice, seemed instantly to seal the fate of Iva’s lover.
Bound and helpless as he was, the young man was led to the spot where Van Dorn had stood and set with his back against the wall of rock. But there was no craven spirit in the victim this time. Proudly the warrior stood facing his chief, his pose erect, his dark eyes calmly regarding his destroyer and a slight smile of scorn curling his lips.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 679
