THE FIRE OF THE GODS.

"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.

"Now listen," said he. "Twice will I call the owl, and once the jackal. If the cry of the hyæna comes back in reply all is well, and we can proceed."

Then, raising both hands to his mouth, he imitated both shriek-owl and jackal, the weird cries echoing again and again through the ruins. We listened intently, but there was no reply. Again the owl and the jackal called; and yet a third time. Then, after a short pause, there arose, within a few yards of us, the unmistakable cry of the hyæna.

"Good," said the sheik, "he has heard. Do you remain here, while I go and interview him. It would not be wise to take you with me, for I must first warn the old man to expect a stranger."

So Faris disappeared into the darkness, and I sat on a heap of brickwork anxiously awaiting his return. He may not have been absent long, though it seemed that he was away for hours. I was dead tired, and more than once I found myself dropping off to sleep, waking up suddenly each time with a start. Then I began to think that I saw beasts crawling about among the ruins; I slipped off my seat, and crouched as low as I was able, with my finger on the trigger of my revolver, which I had drawn ready for an emergency. Lions, I knew, were not uncommon in these parts, and each moment I expected to be set upon by some hungry beast. Gradually I worked myself up to the highest pitch of nervous excitement, prepared to empty my revolver into the first moving object that became visible. As I looked, I saw something crawling towards me; there was no doubt about it. I raised my revolver, fingering the trigger, and nerving myself for the shot, but the object had dropped behind a rock before I could fire. A moment later, I heard the sheik's voice calling to me in an almost inaudible whisper, and fearing that he would discover the state of nervousness at which I had arrived, I hastily put away my revolver, and answered him.

"Quietly," he said, on creeping up to my side, "do not make a noise. There is trouble, and other people are about. The seer is expecting visitors, some of the ruffianly Shammar, of whom he is in great fear. It is within an hour of the appointed time, and I have promised to watch, and help him should he call on me to do so. Keep quiet now, and listen with both ears."

Faris lay flat on the ground with his ear close to it, whilst I sat listening intently. The minutes passed, and no sound disturbed the deathly silence. Suddenly, the sheik whispered to me that he could hear their horses galloping towards us. Save the beating of my own heart, I could hear nothing.

"They have left their horses," said the sheik, "and are walking up to the seer's abode. We will give them time to enter, and then we will follow."

In a few minutes Faris arose, and, bidding me keep close behind him, led the way up a slight incline, and then down into what appeared to be a deep hollow. In the feeble light I could just distinguish some roughly cut steps, which with difficulty we descended. At the bottom, the sheik took me by the wrist and guided me rapidly along a paved path ending in a narrow gateway. Through this we passed, and entered a courtyard, at the far side of which we could see a light streaming through the wide cracks of a massive wooden door. On reaching the door, my companion gripped my arm, and motioned me to halt. Through the cracks we could see clearly all that went on in the chamber within. Several oil lamps burned in little niches in the walls, which were white-washed and bare; from the centre of the domed ceiling hung an iron lamp, containing half a dozen lighted wicks; and another lamp hung over a doorway leading to an inner chamber. Seated on a low couch against one of the walls was a tall thin old man, clothed in a camel's-hair cloak, the hood of which concealed the upper part of his face. Opposite to him sat three stern-faced Bedouins, each with a spear in his hand and daggers protruding from his waistband. High words were already in progress.

"You agreed, Gat-tooth," said one of the Bedouins, "to sell it to us for 2000 kerans; my friends here are witnesses."

"Yes," said another, "and you agreed to meet us at the grove outside Babil, four days since, and deliver it to us."

"I was ill," said the old man, "and unable to do so."

"Know you," said the first Arab, "that your illness cost us the life of our sheik, Abbas-ibn-Rashid, who was ever your friend?"

"I know that he was killed," was the reply, "but he died as he would have wished, and you must all die at one time or another."

"That is indeed true both for you and for us," said the first speaker, "but I would have you know that I am now sheik in my uncle's place, and I have neither his generosity nor his kindness. I have sworn to avenge his death, not only by slaying his murderer, Faris of the Jelas curs, but also by demanding that you shall render up forthwith that for which you would have received 2000 kerans had you kept to your agreement."

"Fine words, Ahmed," replied the seer, quite unperturbed. "Yet pause before you act foolishly. You and your men have come here with naked spear points, which in itself is an insult to the goddess whom I serve. You come to this sacred spot prepared for robbery of the basest kind—robbery from an old man, unable to defend himself with weapons made by human hands. Now, look you, I take these eight beads from my rosary, and I shall let them fall one by one to the floor; when the fourth bead drops you will know that my appeal has reached the gods whom I serve; ere the sixth strikes the ground you must have gone out from this chamber; for, the seventh is the bead of ruin and destruction, and the eighth brings the avenging fire."

What was about to happen I could not conjecture; the old seer, now standing, broke the string of his rosary, and slowly counted out eight beads. I held my breath as I watched him, and wondered if I were dreaming. Faris laid his hand on my arm and held it as in a vice. Then the seer, muttering a few words, stretched out his hand with a bead between the finger and thumb. It dropped to the ground and, rebounding from the bricks, rolled away. The three Bedouins looked at one another and smiled; and Ahmed, rising, addressed the seer.

"Let fall your beads," said he, "and invoke your gods to the utmost. We know them not, and we curse them as vile impostors."

The seer did not vouchsafe a reply, but holding out his hand, let fall a second bead. A slight pause ensued, then the third bead dropped. It seemed to me that the Bedouins now showed some signs of wavering; they no longer smiled; and they shifted in their seats uneasily. The fourth bead was already between finger and thumb, and, like the others, it fell to the ground. Then the Bedouins rose, and I momentarily expected to see them hurl themselves on the strange figure confronting them. But the fifth bead had dropped before they moved, and as it struck the brick floor, it broke in pieces, and, as I thought, gave out some sparks. Whatever occurred was better seen by the Bedouins than by myself, and I noticed that all three of them recoiled. As the sixth bead was raised by the seer, I thought that I saw Ahmed clutch at his spear, but he and his companions now seemed unable to move. The sparks this time were unmistakable; and their effect on the Bedouins was to cause them to step hurriedly back, as if in flight. It was, however, too late, for the seventh bead left the seer's fingers immediately after the sixth; and the eighth followed the seventh as rapidly. In place of dropping this last one like the others, he hurled it with all his force at the very feet of the Arabs. It struck the ground with a report like that of a bomb, and instantly that portion of the floor seemed to open, and give forth great tongues of flame, which leaped up to the roof, and filled the whole chamber. It was a dreadful sight, and I could not restrain myself from shrieking aloud at the horror of it all.

"Fly," shouted Faris, clutching convulsively at my arm, "fly, before we also perish."

Great flames licked up the door in front of us, sweeping it away, then, bursting into the air, shot up, and cast a lurid glare over the ruins. By the light thus given, we were able to dash up the steps and through the piles of broken masonry, out of the hollow, with all speed. At last, when at a safe distance, we stopped, and turned to look back. The flames still poured forth, but now spasmodically, and the smoke grew thicker and blacker. Neither of us spoke, and from what I could see of his face, my companion was as much puzzled at what had occurred as was I. Dawn was approaching, and, as if afraid of the daylight, the flames died down, though the black smoke continued to belch forth through the doorway.

"Sheik," I said in a low voice, hardly daring to break the silence, "what was it?"

"As I have told you many times," he replied, "things happen in the desert which no man can account for. Can you, with all your knowledge of magic, say why fire suddenly issued from the ground and destroyed the inmates of that chamber?"

"I have no knowledge of magic," I said, "and the shock occasioned by what I saw has left me without power to think of a reason for it."

"Then I will tell you," said Faris, impressively. "The seer called on his gods to bring fire and burn up his enemies, yet he as well as they must have perished in the flames; for no man could have remained alive in that chamber."

I knew the uselessness of attempting to argue; neither at that moment was I at all sure that the sheik's solution was not the correct one. So I held my tongue, and sat and watched the smoke hurtling into the air, until, before long, my eyes grew heavy, my head dropped forward, and I sank into a deep sleep.


CHAPTER VIII.