Sahara

by Angus Buchanan

III

A band of Ehaggaran natives, engaged in tending to the grazing of their herds of goats and camels, were camped beneath the eastern slopes of the Ahaggar mountain-range near Tiririn, not vastly distant from Ghat, on the borders of the Fezzan.

In the cool of late afternoon the women were bestirring about the tasks of camp; voices floated softly into the great space of the surroundings; wood-smoke rose from freshly nourished camp-fires, untroubled by wind; and altogether the scene was pastoral and peaceful.

None would suspect that the camp sheltered bandits. Yet it is often thus that, mingled with the commonplace simplicity of rural atmosphere, gangs of robbers of the Sahara, when off the trail, live and protect themselves against discovery at the hands of unfriendly neighbours. Surrounded by peaceful occupation and circumspect behaviour, they live the routine life of their camps, their weapons of warfare carefully hidden, and all other traces of evil-doing; while they retreat behind a curtain of deceit, and cunning, and secrecy; in which they are past-masters. And, in this camp near Tiririn, behind the veil of placid scene, lay Kahena, the bride of Rali.

Among a group of congested hutments Kahena, her cotton shawl drawn closely about her features, was hidden in a dark chamber, free from bonds, but hourly watched over by the women of the robber band so that she should not endeavour to escape; though escape in such a wilderness, should she be desperate enough to attempt it, could only spell death.

Poor child! no longer had she the proud bearing of belle of her tribe. Distress and fear in long enduring her terrible position had left little of youth’s freshness and vigour, and she had come near to collapse and absolute surrender, though to this hour unsubmissive and fiercely antagonistic to the advances of her captors.

But her plight, and everything sinister in the inner life of the camp was, for the time being, securely hidden behind the disarming atmosphere of natural peacefulness of the scene.

But, of a sudden, a deep hush fell—and men, reclining idly on the sand by the huts, rose hastily to their feet and gazed to the south. Two travellers were approaching—a rare occurrence from such a quarter. Bezzou, chief of the village, tall and strong and good to look upon, yet with evil glint in his eyes, felt for the dagger in his sash. Like all men with blood upon their hands, he had twinges of conscience, and for one fleeting moment he showed his character and suspicions. But soon it was seen that the travellers were unarmed, and that no caravan followed behind them; and all misgivings were allayed.

With weary gait the camels of the travellers drew near to camp, their riders, dust-covered and careless, drooping forward over the high cross-heads of their saddles as if they dozed in excess of fatigue.

A SCENE IN AÏR

At the edge of the camp they ordered their camels to kneel, and wearily dismounted, to be greeted with the steely gaze of Bezzou and his men, which scrutiny they returned with equal rudeness and aloofness, as is the custom of the land when stranger meets stranger. After a few moments of eye-to-eye duel the travellers, without uttering a word, gave attention to their camels, removing the riding-saddles and the load, then hobbling the forefeet and turning them free to roll in the sand and search for grazing.

But, for all their travel-soiled, fatigued appearance, for all their seeming haughty indifference, those two men, little as it could be guessed, were, in reality, keyed up to the highest pitch of alertness—for the sleuths of the sand-trail had run their quarry to earth, and Rali and Yofa stood before their bitterest enemies—and well they knew their danger and need of courage.

In time Rali limped feebly forward and addressed himself to Bezzou in his own dialect:

“Chief of a strange people! to-night we would camp with thee! The seas of sand are wide between Kano and Tripoli, and voice of mankind is heard but seldom; and, sometimes, if he is heard, he is not a friend. See! I walk no longer like the gazelle. Six days ago we met foul robbers, who shot and chased us; but our camels are fleet of foot—and so we are here! But my leg, which is wounded, paineth me. I would have water to bathe it, and water to quench the thirst that sits sorely upon us both. I am a merchant; I have gift of cloth for thee if thou wilt bid men to serve our little wants.”

Now Bezzou had noted, with greedy eyes, the bale of merchandise that they carried, and it served his wishes of the moment that the stranger should tarry in his camp. Hence he answered:

“Welcome, wizard of travel! thou hast set out upon a long journey, like unto our forefathers who were wont to go to Mecca to kneel at the feet of the Prophet. Water shall be brought to you speedily, and food, and, wish ye aught else, speak that wish and it shall be granted!”

This request filled Rali with gladness, for it gave him the opening he sought. He had followed the old robber tracks near to this camp, but, as yet, knew not for certain if he had reached the end of his search. He had but one sure way to confirm his suspicions: he must see some of the camels belonging to the tribe, for he could recognise the footprints of any beast of the robber band the moment he cast eyes on them. Therefore he replied:

“I have one pressing need, O great and generous Chief! and it would be a providence of Allah if it could be granted. The camel which carries our merchandise is taken with dire sickness of the flesh, where resteth the pack-saddle, and I would fain purchase another, if camels thou hast for sale.”

To his request Bezzou answered: “I shall command that six beasts, fair to look upon, shall be brought before thee ere the sun setteth, and thou shalt choose from among them, provided thou shalt pay me in silver of the white men of Kano.”

“Verily, I shall pay thee in the silver of the white man,” agreed Rali, at the same moment catching a fleeting glint of covetousness in his benefactor’s eyes.

Whereupon they parted for a time, and Rali and Yofa drank deep of water, and sat down at a little distance from the camp, ostensibly to bathe the wound from which Rali suffered. But when the blood-stained rags which bound the limb were removed no wound was there. Rali could still walk or run with the freedom of the gazelle when need arose. But he replaced the discoloured rags, and groaned in seeming stiffness and as if in great pain.

Ere night camels were brought to Rali, so that he might purchase one. He was startled, almost to the extent of uttering an unwary exclamation, the moment he cast eyes upon them, for among them was one of the animals that had been stolen during the robber raid upon his tribe. However, he successfully suppressed all signs of recognition, and carefully inspected each animal in turn, bargaining over the price of them with the customary shrewdness expected of a merchant. To alleviate any lingering suspicion that might exist among the tribe concerning him, Rali was careful to take most interest in his own stolen camel, and he discussed it as an animal born and reared in the neighbourhood and entirely strange to him. And in the end it was this beast that he chose to select to purchase.

Meantime his keen eyes had not been idle, and he noted that two of the other animals made footprints in the sand exactly as they had been made months before on the robber trail. No fragment of doubt remained. He had tracked the bandits to their den.

But where was Kahena? Was Bezzou the leader of the band, as well as chief of the tribe? For, if so, it might be he to whom she had been allotted, to be one of his wives or slave women. He must plan to gain access to Bezzou’s dwelling. This mentally decided, he said:

“O generous Chief! this camel I shall take from thine herd when I go forth, but this day I shall pay thee silver of the white men of Kano in token of good faith. Anon, when thou hast feasted of the evening meal, if it be well advised, I shall come to thy door with bag of silver and gift of cloth.”

And Bezzou answered, with greed in his eyes: “It is well, friend. Come, and thou shalt be welcomed.”

Wherefore, in due time, when the shades of night had fallen, Rali limped to the door of the encampment of Bezzou, and was admitted.

The chief and two old councillors awaited him. They had been deep in evil plans, for Bezzou had already made up his mind that the harmless travellers, with their camels, and merchandise, and bags of silver, should never leave the camp alive.

SPELLBOUND IN THE GRIP OF LIMITLESS SILENCE

Rali made his generous gift of cloth to the chief, and, from a bag concealed in the folds of his garment, counted out the dole of silver which was the price of the camel he had purchased, the while he discussed, in voice pitched more high than usual, the small incidents of the journey and the hardships which he and Yofa had experienced by the way. He was fencing to disarm suspicion, fencing for time; hopeful that Kahena was near—even that she might catch the sound of his voice. In vain, when unobserved, his keen eyes roved over the hut in search of a clue.

Presently a woman entered from the rear bringing some wood for the fire that smouldered between stones on the floor. She was an Ehaggaran native, and, beyond one brief glance at her, Rali appeared indifferent to her presence. Yet, if one could have guessed it, his downcast eyes missed nothing. But vain was his covert inspection; her person revealed no clue of Kahena’s immediate presence; and his heart sank within him as she retired from the hut, for he had hoped that it might be otherwise.

Conversation had lagged, and Rali had risen to depart to his rest, when, with the curiosity of her sex, the woman re-entered on pretext of mending the fire, in reality to hear the parting words that passed between the stranger and her people. She was in the act of adding fuel to the fire, when Rali suddenly stumbled and emitted a smothered groan, as if from the pain of his wound.

“Brother! thou art unfit to travel further for the present,” exclaimed Bezzou, supporting him, and inwardly intent on his evil schemes. “Rest in this camp, where thou art welcome, until thou hast recovered.”

And, as he limped off to join Yofa in rest, Rali answered: “I thank thee, O great and generous Chief! Gladly will I stay here for a few days until this sickness of the evil one has passed.”

Once outside in the darkness, Rali’s features relaxed in strange grimace, half expressing satisfaction, yet shadowed with burning hatred. For what had happened, at the moment when he had appeared to be seized with pain, was that the woman, in the act of stretching out a thin arm from under cover of the folds of her shawl to nourish the fire, had exposed a metal bangle on her wrist that had once been the property of Kahena.

He joined Yofa at the edge of the encampment, and together they rolled themselves in their blankets and lay down side by side upon the sand. But not to sleep—for long they discussed the exciting incidents of the day and planned for the future in low whisperings.

Undoubtedly Kahena was in camp, or had been killed. If alive, how were they to effect her rescue and wreak revenge? for vengeance was almost as dear to them as the rescue of Kahena. There were many men in this camp, and for the present they appeared to have no occupation which took them far afield during day or night.

At last Rali, who shrewdly suspected that, if he did not act quickly, Bezzou, in his greed, would frustrate him by some treachery, proposed a daring plan, and, after much discussion of its inner details, it was agreed upon.

So that it came to pass that in the night Yofa crept from his sleeping-place and, with saddle and money-bags of Rali, set out across the sand to trace the grazing camels, so that he should mount and ride away in the direction of Ghat with all speed.