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diff --git a/old/66605-0.txt b/old/66605-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 809c922..0000000 --- a/old/66605-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3925 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Sarah of the Sahara, by Walter E. -Traprock - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Sarah of the Sahara - A Romance of Nomads Land - -Author: Walter E. Traprock - -Release Date: October 23, 2021 [eBook #66605] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Emmanuel Ackerman, David E. Brown, and the Online - Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This - file was produced from images generously made available by - The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SARAH OF THE SAHARA *** - - - - - -_By Dr. Walter E. Traprock, F.R.S.S.E.U._ - - - The Cruise of the Kawa - My Northern Exposure - Sarah of the Sahara - - - - -SARAH OF THE SAHARA - - -[Illustration: Super-Stars of Traprock’s Super-Feature Film “Sarah of -the Sahara”] - - - - - SARAH OF THE SAHARA - - A ROMANCE OF NOMADS LAND - - BY - WALTER E. TRAPROCK - - AUTHOR OF “THE CRUISE OF THE KAWA,” - “MY NORTHERN EXPOSURE” - - WITH SEVENTEEN FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS - - G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS - NEW YORK AND LONDON - The Knickerbocker Press - 1923 - - - - - Copyright, 1923 - by - G. P. Putnam’s Sons - - - [Illustration] - - Made in the United States of America - - - - - To - S. W. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - CHAPTER I - - Love at First Sight 1 - - CHAPTER II - - Our First Interview 19 - - CHAPTER III - - Into the Great Unknown 35 - - CHAPTER IV - - The Wandering Wimpoles 53 - - CHAPTER V - - Love and Lions 67 - - CHAPTER VI - - A Desperate Predicament 87 - - CHAPTER VII - - The Escape 109 - - CHAPTER VIII - - Sheik to Sheik 121 - - CHAPTER IX - - Mine at Last! 139 - - CHAPTER X - - Death in the Desert 157 - - CHAPTER XI - - Antony and Cleopatra 167 - - CHAPTER XII - - The Tomb of Dimitrino 181 - - CHAPTER XIII - - Buried Alive 195 - - CHAPTER XIV - - Love Lost 207 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - -(From photographs taken for the Super-Feature Film of Dr. Traprock’s -story recently released by the All-for-Art Production Co. of Derby, -Conn.) - - - PAGE - - SUPER-STARS OF TRAPROCK’S SUPER-FEATURE FILM - “SARAH OF THE SAHARA” _Frontispiece_ - - LADY SARAH WIMPOLE 7 - - LORD HORACE WIMPOLE 27 - - AB-DOMEN ALLAH 47 - - AT THE OASIS OF ARAG-WAN 57 - - A DESERT DIANA 71 - - ALONE AT LAST 83 - - REGINALD WHINNEY 91 - - AZAD THE TERRIBLE 101 - - ZALOOFA 117 - - THE RESCUE 127 - - SHEIK TO SHEIK 135 - - TWIN BEDOUINS OF THE EAST 151 - - AN EGYPTIAN DEITY 175 - - ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF ASSOUAN 187 - - IN THE SHADOW OF THE PYRAMID 213 - - SAD MEMORIES 221 - - - - -SARAH OF THE SAHARA - - - - -CHAPTER I - -_Love at First Sight_ - - - - -SARAH OF THE SAHARA - - - - -CHAPTER I - - -“Allah! Allah! Bishmillah. El Traprock, Dhub ak Moplah!... Wullahy! -Wullahy!” - -Long, long after their echoes have died away the cries of my desert men -ring on my ears. Still do I see myself as, in a cloud of dust, at the -head of my band of picked nomads, my burnous floating above me so that -I looked like a covered wagon, with the drumming thunder of a hundred -hoofs and the wild yells of my followers, I swept like a cyclone to the -rescue of one of the fairest creatures of my favorite sex. - -O Sarah! my desert mate, whom I have hymned in terms of pomegranates, -peacock’s-eyes and alabaster columns, lovely lady for whom I trained -my tongue to the notes of the nightingale and my fingers to the -intricacies of the lute, elusive creature, startled doe that ever fled -before my bent bow and keen-edged arrows only to be struck down at -last by agonizing love, light of my spirit, breath of my soul, warmth -of my body, why, O all-of-these-and-much-more, did’st thou flee from El -Sheik Traprock, Dhub of the Moplah Tribe?... Wullahy! - -Alas! She may not answer, my fair bride of the silences, for she has -been plucked from me, she has passed beyond my ken. Let me then speak -for her, my sweet bird, my tower of gold-and-ivory, my tall building -agleam with rubies, my ... but first let me descend from the heaven of -her memory and cease from singing of the musical Moplahs. - -In other words let me get back to earth and, in regular language, try -to describe her as I first saw her. - - * * * * * - -It was on the pier-head at Cannes: the time, sunset. She stood, -outlined against the flaming sky, a tall, angular figure. In the fading -light I took no note of details but there was that in the woman’s -silhouette which gripped me. My heart stopped ... missed a beat ... and -hurried on. - -Strange and mysterious, the influence of human personalities! Her mere -presence was a challenge at which I bristled. Through my nerve-centers -flashed deep messages of interest, attraction ... animosity. Here, -plainly, was no easy quarry. - -As tense and alert as a setter on-the-point I stood watching the lean -figure. At the back of my head I felt a light tickling sensation as if -a hand had passed upward over my hair; my nostrils, I dare say, dilated. - -Her back was toward me and she was gazing at the luminous waters of -the “Baie des Anges.” Caught in her close-cropped, reddish-brown hair -the last sun’s rays shone in a golden aureole so that in this respect -she might have been one of the angels for whom the bay is named. But -the angelic suggestion ended there. In all else she was warm, vital, -human, a vibrant personality with a hint of almost masculine strength -beneath the folds of her tan silk jacket and short walking skirt. One -arm was akimbo and through the triangle thus formed I could see, by odd -coincidence, the distant shape of my yawl, the Kawa, from which I had -just landed. - -[Illustration: LADY SARAH WIMPOLE - -“Her mere presence was a challenge at which I bristled. Here was no -easy quarry.”] - -[Illustration: Lady Sarah Wimpole] - -My arrival in Cannes had been meaningless, the chance debarkation of a -wanderer in search of rest after arduous voyaging in the far North, the -aimless pursuit of warmth, comfort and sunshine. I had intended, -as far as my formless plans had any intention, stopping over the night -at Cannes, then pushing on to the various Mediterranean ports, through -Suez to the great East. My vague objective was the Nicobars, off -Sumatra, where I had promised to call on a devoted old Andamanian when -the opportunity offered. - -Now, in an instant all that was changed. Vanished my Andamanian friend, -my vague intentions. Here, within a few feet of me, in the person -of this unknown woman was adventure, mystery, romance, an immediate -objective, a citadel to be stormed, a problem to be solved, an -adversary to be overcome, a mate to be ... who knows what lies in wait -for him around the corner? I only know that in a twinkling life had -become purposeful, fascinating, electric. - -She seemed to feel something of this riotous zip which I was projecting -toward her for she turned suddenly and with a quick, awkward gesture, -pulled on a soft straw hat and began walking in my direction. I -immediately withdrew among a maze of packing-cases, orange boxes and -other freight with which the pier was cumbered. Instinct told me it -was not the time for our meeting. I had come ashore only for a few -necessary supplies and I was very much in fatigue uniform. Also I was -bare-footed in which condition a man can never look his best. - -A moment later she strode unsuspectingly past the pile of orange -boxes which screened me. I caught the impression of a distinctly -patrician type with rigidly drawn features in which an aquiline nose -predominated. I had only a glimpse but, as in the wink of a camera -shutter, a clear image of that austere profile was imprinted upon the -sensitive plate of my soul. Developing and printing were to come later. -One thing was certain; she was a personage, not a mere person. - -At the end of the pier she vanished. Vaulting from my fruit crate I -made toward the string-piece where my dingy was gently bumping. I must -make ship and haul my evening clothes from stowage. Once more I was on -the trail. - - * * * * * - -Fate does not cheat those who trust her. Without arrangement on my part -I saw my lady again within three days. It was bound to happen. - -Though changed entirely as to costume, I knew her instantly. She was at -the roulette table in the glittering salle-de-jeu at Monte Carlo. From -afar I saw the tip of a blue ostrich plume, the nodding feathers of -which seemed to brush against my consciousness. They could belong to -none other. - -Again the imperious call and challenge flashed between us as I took a -seat opposite hers where I could study her features while I tossed my -chips on the table. She looked up at once and I held her with my gaze. -For the first time our glances met. I was oblivious of my surroundings. -The brilliant room, the gay crowd, the alert croupier, all sank into -nothingness as I focussed my eyes on hers, resolved that in this first -interchange I should not yield. Her eyes, amazingly blue, looked into -mine for a long instant, then dropped to the Cross of St. Botolphe -which glittered on my shirt-bosom. I wore no other jewels save the -agate-and-iron signet ring which his Britannic majesty--but that is -neither here nor there. A faint smile played at the corners of my -lady’s lips. It was enough. She had taken note of my presence. - -She was plainly a great lady of the type which England alone can -produce, one of those rangy, imperial, dominating creatures in whom -seem to be compacted innumerable generations of conquering invaders, -Derby-winners, stalwart cricketers and astute statesmen. The prevailing -color of her person was red, or, to be more accurate, sandy, the -short hair being without any tinge of the pink or henna which reeks of -the coiffeurs’ art. Her complexion was of a salmon or apricot shade, -made almost golden by the overtone of pale, downy fuzz which so often -accompanies it. Crowning the crisply curled locks was a regal tiara -of large emeralds into which the blue ostrich feather was stuck at -a jaunty angle. Never before had I seen a tiara on bobbed hair and -the effect coupled with the red and green color scheme was extremely -diverting. One felt at once that here was a woman who would dare -anything. - -Being black myself the aureate color of her skin struck on my heart -like a gong. Her brows and lashes were so pale as to be almost -albinesque. Above and below a generous, full-lipped mouth her dominant -nose contended for supremacy with an obstinate chin. Tanned cheeks -spoke plainly of life in the open as did her strong but well-kept hands -upon which shone several important emeralds. But what stirred me most -were her arms. - -Costume makes little or no impression on me. The general effect of what -she wore was hard and steely, but gorgeous. The color was mainly white -with a great slash of sky-blue introduced somewhere. I had the feeling -of being in the presence of a lady-mayor or an important ambassadress. -In any case, her arms were exposed beyond the elbow and to my delight -they were generously freckled, not with coarse, country-style, -ginger-bread mottlings, but with fine, detached discs no bigger than -pin heads and pure gold in color. Over these pale paillettes grew the -silky fur of which I have spoken. For some reason freckles always -excite me, probably because I can never hope to have any except -vicariously. - -She was playing for high stakes, using only hundred-franc chips and -winning with a consistency that attracted the inevitable cortege about -her chair, the jackals who try to follow a winner or steal a system by -peering over one’s shoulder. - -I could but admire the coolness with which she turned and pushed away -the face of an ornamental Russian woman, the Princess Sonia Subikoff, -notorious adventuress and parasite, whose covetous features kept -thrusting themselves under the player’s elbow. Done by one less sure of -herself the action would have provoked a terrific scene. As it was, the -outraged Princess, _soi-disant_, struck savagely at the blonde back of -the English woman. The blow resounded as if she had hit a packing-case, -producing no more effect than a shrug and a cheerful grin as _la_ -Subikoff made off, nursing a lame hand and hissing spiteful comment -on the _animal anglaise_. Coolly, superbly, the Anglo-Saxon continued -her play, placing her chips with a nonchalant sweep of her great -arms. In every movement was the same underlying hint of powerful bony -sub-structure. - -“_Elle est dure_,” said a voice at my side. - -“_Qui ça?_” - -“_La belle laide, en face._” - -I turned with an instinctive hostility toward the speaker, his voice, -manner ... everything. To discuss a woman, openly, in a public -place.... _La belle laide!_ ... and yet, was she not just that? There -is a merciless precision in the Latin tongue. - -My neighbors were a type I detest,--Peruvians, I judged by the -barbarous Spanish clang of their French; sleek, oily, anointed -with perfume from their lacquered hair to their equally shining -boots, tailored, corsetted, manicured and with that fawning look so -unpleasantly suggestive of the oriental. One was playing for small -stakes while his companion looked on, but I noticed that both were -narrowly watching the English woman and exchanging whispered comments. - -Something was in the wind and my submerged sense of suspicion began to -stir. - -“_Flute!_” cried one of the South-Americans, which is a strong -imprecation in French, “She wins like a fiend.” - -“_Zut_,” replied the other as his last chip passed under the rake. - -I turned to my own play, a system which I picked up in Buenos Ayres, -a sure winner of small amounts. After two hours I was four and a half -francs ahead and the pastime was beginning to bore me. Rising, I saw -that the Peruvians had separated, one having crossed to the other -side of the table directly back of the English woman while the other -loitered near the croupier’s desk. - -In a flash I divined their plan just in time to act. As the man near -the croupier engaged him in conversation I saw the other’s hand shoot -out and seize a large pile of bank-notes weighted down with a stack of -golden louis. I could not possibly reach the fellow or the louis, but I -could and did reach the door. - -As our paths converged I saw that in his left hand he held an -automatic. Acting entirely on instinct I threw in his face a handful -of small change, keys, pen-knife, etc., from my trouser pocket. At -the same instant I dove. His bullet roared, harmless, over my head and -together we crashed to the marble floor. The thief had never seen a -foot-ball game and expected something entirely different. - -As we struggled he attempted to turn the weapon on me but my grip was -like steel. The room was in an uproar. Hither and yon we threshed about -over the polished pavement. In one of our gyrations my foot caught -under the teak-wood base of a huge Japanese jar. Fascinated I watched -it tremble, totter ... and fall into a thousand fragments about us. -Then the confusion was punctuated by a sharp report and my adversary -lay suddenly still. He had shot himself during the struggle, whether by -accident or design I can not say. - -Rising I looked about and tendered a handful of golden coins and -_billets-de-banque_ to the tall, masterful woman who stood near me. - -“Top-hole,” she said, quite simply. “You must come to see me.” - -She handed me her card, which I accepted, bowing. There were some -tedious formalities necessary at the local _poste de police_ and it was -after midnight when I reached my room and took the card from my pocket. -“Lady Sarah Wimpole,” I read beneath a simple crest, a swan volant -holding a snake in its beak and the device “_Nunc pro tunc._” - -Our paths had crossed. Matters were coming on apace. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -_Our First Interview_ - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -“Dr. Traprock?” - -She held the card which had preceded me. Saluting in the continental -manner, I bent over her extended hand, noting the strong, square nails -with their perfect crescent moons at the base. - -“Lady Wimpole.” - -She motioned me to a complicated wicker chair of Malaysian make which -brought back vividly my years in Mindanao. - -“You were splendid the other night,” she said. Her voice surprised me. -It was harsh, like the note of a grackle or the cry of a sea-bird, full -of strange breaks, guttural depths and moving dissonances. - -As we talked I took in the details of our surroundings. We were -seated in the morning-room of the Villa Bianca, an exquisitely -appointed mansion of lemon-yellow stucco embowered in a riot of roses, -bougainvilléa and flowering bugloss-vines. From beyond the walls of the -formal entrance garden the noises of the town reached us faintly. The -Monocan populace were celebrating the fête of St. Yf whose favor is -supposed to bring good luck at the gaming tables. - -Glancing at my hostess I re-experienced the conviction that she was -a surprising woman. Odd indeed was the contrast she made with her -surroundings. The room was of an indescribable daintiness. Overhead -arched a pale blue plaster dome upon which painted birds flitted among -fleecy clouds or perched upon blossoming branches. The side-walls, -except for door and window openings, were covered with coral pink -studded regularly with small crystal buttons, the spacing being -accentuated by a connecting diaper-design of silver thread. - -From the cornice, at the beginning of the dome, hung a deep valance -of white lace which was repeated in the long window curtains and -innumerable cushions on chairs, _chaise-longue_ and foot-stools. -The whole room, in fact, seethed with a sort of suds of lace and -_chiffonerie_ like an old-fashioned valentine in the midst of which -Lady Sarah sat enthroned in a curious chair contrived to represent a -sea-shell. - -Her costume, as nearly as I could make it out, was a voluminous silk -prowler or slip-cover of silk matching the walls, and like them, -edged with lace. An intricate mob-cap covered all but a severe bang of -red-brown hair which shrieked at its dainty surroundings as loudly as -the green parrot who, raucous and unconfined, swung acrobatically about -his perch. - -“Shut up, Selim,” commanded the bird’s mistress; then, having noted my -looks of appraisal, “Isn’t this place hideous? I hate a room that foams -at the mouth. My husband takes it for the season. Poor creature, his -taste is ghastly; he was born in Nottingham. This house was built by -the government for one of the old king’s mistresses. It gives Wimpole a -thrill merely to rent it.” - -She sank back languidly into the recesses of her shell, suppressing a -yawn and I could see the faint lines running from the corners of her -eyes to the lobes of her ears, lines of disillusionment, of hunger -denied, of ... - -During the interval since our meeting at the Casino I had learned -something of her tragic story. Born amid the highest and most -refined nobility, the daughter of Sir Rupert Alleyne and Mary, Lady -Beaverboard, she had seen her ancestral fortune lost by her father in -speculative adventures induced by the old taint of the Alleyne madness. -In his fifty-third year Sir Rupert inherited by the laws of succession -the estates and titles of the Beaverboard interests, becoming -subsequently Duke of Axminster. These honors marked the beginning of -the end. - -The final crash came with Sir Rupert’s attempt to corner the Italian -antique market together with all the important trans-atlantic steamship -lines, his idea being to completely control the American demand -for ancestral portraits and _objets d’art_. The stately halls of -Alleynecourt were thronged with continental adventurers freighted down -with spurious Botticelli, Allegretti and other masters. - -When the Duke, raving, was carted away to Old Drury, his daughter -sought refuge with her uncle, Egbert Alleyne, whose scientific works on -graptolites and stromatoporoids kept him impoverished and ill-at-ease -in a tiny cottage in Gloucestershire. - -Here Horace Wimpole found her. He was at that time senior partner in -the firm of Wimpole & Tripp, laces, of Nottingham, with a peerage in -view and an o’er-vaulting snobbery which he saw prospects of gratifying -by an alliance with the penurious but well-connected Sarah Alleyne. On -her side it was a bitter bargain,--her youth, her rugged beauty, her -hopes of romance in exchange for wealth and comfort for herself and -her crazed sire. She accepted. - -A week after the Westminster Gazette announced the bestowal of a title -upon Horace, Lord Wimpole, the ennobled merchant led his aristocratic -bride from the church portico. Blithely rang the bells of St. George’s -and lustily rose the cheers of the bluff English onlookers whose -worship of nobility and all the panoply thereof is the enduring wonder -of the world. Wimpole promptly did his duty by his father-in-law and -had the ancient zany removed from Old Drury to a private padded-cell -in a fashionable asylum. The old man’s last whimsy was that he was -Admiral Napier and he was given the run of a small garden where, in -full uniform and spy-glass in hand, he made observations and issued -authoritative commands. - -Lady Wimpole was now free, except for the encumbrance of her low-bred -husband who had virtually retired, master of a colossal fortune by -means of which he proposed to live up to his new estate. - -[Illustration: LORD HORACE WIMPOLE - -“As a business man he was a success, for he ran true to type, but as an -aristocrat he was a hopeless false-alarm.”] - -[Illustration: Lord Horace Wimpole] - -It was here he made his fatal error. As a business man he was a -success, for he ran true to type, but as an aristocrat he was a -hopeless false-alarm. Contrary to previous statements, in matters of -breeding kind hearts can not compare with coronets, particularly -when the latter have been in the family for ten generations. - -Finding himself a failure in the fields of sport, riding to or from -the hounds, cricket and the active exercises, intellectually unable -to compete in cultural pursuits such as the writing of memoirs or the -collecting of sea shells and butterflies, Wimpole was thrown back on -the last recourse of affluent ignorance, travel and dissipation. - -In the latter field he showed a natural aptitude which, had it been -caught and cultivated in some previous generation, might have made him -a rather attractive rake. But it came too late; he was merely beastly. -Lady Wimpole was quite frank about it. - -“Your husband,--is he with you?” I asked. - -She raised her beautiful pinkish eye-lids toward the ceiling. “Still -asleep ... he was unusually crocked last night. You know he has taken -up the vices. He tries to be brutal.” - -“Does he beat you?” I put the question frankly because I knew it was -the traditional thing and I felt that she would appreciate a direct -method. - -“No,” she said simply. “He would like to but he doesn’t dare. He does -his worst however. He bites.” - -She slipped back the soft sleeve of her gown and extended an arm. I -shrank back in horror. The dog! A semi-circle of teeth-marks marred the -salmon-silkiness of the loveliest fore-arm in the world. - -Involuntarily I paled and yet felt curiously relieved. This proof of -dastardly conduct on her husband’s part seemed to make easier the thing -I knew I should eventually have to do, namely, take this gorgeous -creature from him. - -Turning toward the parrot to hide my emotion I said “Madame,--I am -sorry to bring you bad news ... but we are both summoned to appear -before the local police magistrate the day after tomorrow. The -charge is murder. You are a material witness. The affair is entirely -technical, but there are unseen influences at work. The young man,--the -scoundrel who attempted to steal your gold, was well-connected, of an -old Peruvian family. They have cabled representations to the Monacan -government. The whole affair has the look of a nasty, political -embroglio. It may last some time. I was once called as a witness to a -trolley accident in Jerusalem and six months afterward....” - -“I will hear all that later. Today is Tuesday. Call for me Thursday -morning--what is the hour? eleven? Good--be here at ten-thirty: I will -not fail you. Adios.” - -Again saluting her _à la française_, I departed. - -For two days I carried her image in my heart. I know not how it is with -others but when I have once decided to love a certain person I find -it a simple matter to do so. At the first glimpse of Lady Wimpole my -heart, had, so to speak, assumed a crouching posture. It only remained -for me to tell my emotions what to do, just as I might direct my great -police dog, Graustein, to stop a suspicious character. By now I was -thoroughly aroused. The memory of those atrocious teeth-marks and that -blemished fore-arm were fresh fuel. - -At exactly ten-thirty on the appointed Thursday I approached the villa. -It was close shuttered and wore a vacant, deserted look at which my -heart sank. The gate was locked and the bell jangled noisily among -deserted rose bushes. - -“Curses!” I ground out between clenched teeth. “She was toying with me!” - -A step on the gravel interrupted my bitter reflections. It was the old -gardener. - -“_Madame est partie_,” he announced, “_et Monsieur aussi ... sur le -yacht ... ce matin._” - -A glance toward the bay confirmed his statement; the slim white shape -of Wimpole’s yacht, the Undine, was no longer in sight. - -“But did they leave no message?” I demanded. - -He turned aside smiling. - -“_Un mot? Sais pas ... c’est-à-dire ... peut-être ..._” - -I saw what he was driving at. Damn the baksheesh hunting tribes! - -“Here,” I said, thrusting a crisp bank-note through the bars. Seizing -it he fumbled in his blouse and produced a large envelope which I -clutched eagerly, tearing it open as the bearer disappeared into -the depths of the garden. Beneath the now familiar crest, in a bold -masculine handwriting, I read the simple words, “Meet me in the desert, -S. W.” - -This thwarting of my desire, this baffling of my purpose--was the -one thing needed to set my blood on fire. On the instant I turned -and ran down the hill toward the water-side, all thought of Monacan -courts-of-law completely forgotten. At the precise moment when the -stately judge-advocate in his purple and green _laetitia_ or official -robe opened the Monacan Court, the little Kawa was slipping over the -Southern horizon toward the African mountain wall beyond which lie the -limitless sands of the Sahara. - -“Meet me in the desert,” she had said. No desert on earth could be big -enough to hide her. My emotions were up, and in full cry! - - - - -CHAPTER III - -_Into the Great Unknown_ - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -Africa! Far away I sighted the purple shadow of the land of mystery, -the low-lying coast-line and interior wall of mountains behind which -lay the vastness of Sahara. - -We struck the coast at Djidjelli, further East than we had anticipated. -Captain Triplett, my navigator, said that compasses always acted -queerly in these waters which he ascribed to the influence of occult -desert powers, outraged divinities and the like. - -“It’s them genuses,” he said, “they raise hell with yer.” - -Be that as it may we had to veer sharply in order to make Algiers on -the third day after clearing from and out of Monte Carlo. The harbor -showed no trace of the Undine and according to the port-authorities she -had not touched there, nor was there any record of the Wimpole party at -the leading hotels or travel bureaus. They were gone, swallowed up in -the immense folds of the silent, brooding Southland. - -“Meet me in the desert!” Lady Sarah’s parting cry rang in my ears. In -it I detected the first note of appeal suggesting her growing need -of me, a need of which she was perhaps still unconscious, but which -might grow to who knows what. Why was I so certain she referred to -Sahara, the Great Desert? I can not say, but it seemed inevitable that -she would choose the largest; it was in keeping with the majestic, -monumental nature of the woman. Whatever the reason I was positive that -somewhere in those uncharted wastes I should find her. Facing them, as -I stood on the quarter-deck with Whinney, my acting-first-officer, I -pressed Lady Wimpole’s letter in my breast pocket and whispered softly -“I come, my lady of the desert, I come.” - -“How?” said Whinney. - -“Nothing.” I answered shortly and went below. - -Another certainty, arrived at during my trans-Mediterranean trip, -loomed large in my plans. Re-visiting the desert after an absence of -ten years I decided that I should assume my title of Sheik of the -Moplah Bedouins which had been conferred upon me in recognition of -having saved a native caravan from certain death due to the sudden -failure of the wells at the Oasis of Sus. - -Since that memorable time the Sheik, as an institution, has acquired a -tremendous sentimental and romantic value which fell in admirably with -my quest of the remarkable English woman who had yanked me so forcibly -from the spiritual doldrums. - -Tunis, Algiers, Fez and Agadir, all the important North African -towns--now do a thriving business in Sheik-outfitting, the bazaars -ringing with the cries of costumers, burnous-boys, veiled Circassian -beauties with their trays of turbans, dealers in arms and accoutrement, -saddle-sellers and camel merchants. But I needed none of this shoddy -material designed entirely for the tourist trade. What I wanted was the -real thing. - -Two days after my arrival in Algiers I stumbled on Ab-Domen Allah, the -faithful dragoman who had dragged me through Turkey and Arabia in 1902. -It was sheer Traprock luck, for he was the very man I wanted, capable, -resourceful and devoted. - -Over a glass of coffee on the terrace of the Di Baccho I explained my -needs. - -“_Si, si_,” he hissed, patting his huge bulk delightedly. “I -understand. I will attend to everything. See, we had best do thus and -so.” - -Dipping his fore-finger in the coffee he drew an excellent likeness of -Africa on the tablecloth. - -“We will enter here at Rascora on the very western edge of the desert. -You can go round by water: I will meet you there with the camels. Thus -we will go through the desert the long way. You will miss nothing. You -are looking for something, eh?” - -I hesitated, but he burst out laughing. - -“A woman! Aha, my friend. You have not changed since I met you in -Skutari! You devil!” - -Drawing back from the table in order to give himself room to shake he -trembled like a mountain of jelly until a glance at his wrist-watch -told him it was the evening hour for worship. He could not kneel but -turned his chair toward Mecca and performed the orthodox calisthenics -in a sketchy but satisfactory manner. - -Personally I was more than willing to let him have his laugh in -exchange for having secured his services. Matters of detail could now -be dismissed. At dawn the next day I weighed anchor for Tangier and -points west, slipping rapidly down the Moroccan coast with short stops -at Mogador, Rio de Oro and, finally, Rascora. - -Rapid though the trip was it took the better part of a fortnight -allowing Ab-Domen no more than time to assemble our caravan. During -the interval I took up the re-study of the desert languages, Berber, -Arabic, Bedouin and the main Sudanese dialects all of which I had -fairly well mastered before we rounded the gleaming cliffs of Cape -Blanco. I also gave considerable time to exercising myself in the -florid style of speech without which no Sheik is really a Sheik. During -these periods of study I would stand near the capstan and apostrophize -my lost lady in the most poetic terms. - -“O thou! beautiful as the dawn and rounded as the bursting lotus-bud -whose voice is as the cooing of a dove calling gently to its mate, lo, -from afar I come to thee.” - -These proceedings astonished the crew. In fact I overheard Captain -Triplett say to Whinney, “The old man is cuckoo,” to which the flippant -first-officer replied, “You gushed a geyser.” I had to reprimand them -both severely. - -Another exercise to which I devoted considerable time was the -practising of that stern, aloof mien which is the proper Sheik-ish -attitude. This was very hard for me for my nature is genial. However -no one ever heard of anyone clapping one of these portentous Arabs -on the shoulder with a “Hello, Sheik; how’s tricks.” That sort of -thing would mean death according to modern literary standards and I -endeavored to convey this idea to my companions whenever they were -familiar which was always. I almost precipitated a row when I said -one day to Whinney, “Peace, thou ill-begotten son of a base-born -mule-driver.”... He seized a belaying pin with the light of mayhem in -his eyes and I had great difficulty in explaining the purely figurative -meaning of my words. - -In private, however, I continued the practise of speeches redolent of -the great eastern orators who are pastmasters of the art of saying it -with flowers, while I also steeled my heart to a cruelty toward all -woman-kind which is an absolute prerequisite of successful Sheik-ery. -Often, in the privacy of my cabin, I would seize my rolled-up steamer -rug by the throat and cry harshly “So, I have you at last, have I? -Remember, woman, you are mine! ... all mine.” - -As may be imagined these studies filled in the time admirably and made -me mad with longing for the actual desert voyage to begin. - -Two days after dropping anchor Ab-Domen appeared on the outskirts -of Rascora winding his way down from the Atlean foot-hills, bells -tinkling, flutes playing and camels smelling. He had assembled a -complete outfit equipped with everything for an indefinite stay in the -desert. - -I had decided on camels as our motive power for I loathe such modern -contraptions as motorboats in Venice and motor-trucks in the desert. I -couldn’t quite fancy myself as a Sheik arriving on a truck and crying -“Lo! it is I, the son of the Eagle.” Besides I would probably get my -burnous caught in the fly-wheel which would be a pity as it was really -magnificent, a true Moplah Sheik costume, pure white with a number of -tricky gold ornaments. - -Ab-Domen had done a gorgeous job in selecting my camels. During his -shopping he had been accompanied by my friend Herman Swank, for many -years my super-cargo. We stood together as the herd wound its way into -the village under its own power and Swank gave me some interesting -information on their fine points. - -Qualifications to be considered in buying a camel are water-and-weight -capacity, hair-crop and stupidity. The first consideration is how many -miles per gallon can the beast do. Curiously, just as with automobiles, -dealers invariably lie about this point. - -Weight-capacity is tested by loading the camel until he can’t get up -and then removing small amounts until he _just_ can, thus giving the -traffic all that it can possibly bear. - -The hair-crop of the camel is one of the staple harvests of the desert -area and is of tremendous value for the local manufacture of ropes, -shawls, blankets, etc., and for the export trade in camels-hair -brushes, used the world over by water-color artists. Water colors are, -of course, out of the question in the Sahara where there is very little -color and almost no water. - -Stupidity, the last named attribute, is an essential in a good camel. -Fortunately most of them possess it to an amazing degree. Without it -no animal would think of entering the desert let alone carrying the -crushing burdens which are imposed upon them. Ab-Domen had combed the -country for stupid camels, among which the bactrian booby-prize went -to DeLong, my own mount. Whinney bestrode Rufus, a reddish beast while -Swank called his Clotilde in memory of a young woman he had known in -the Latin Quarter. They were all single humped Arabians which are -superior to the Asiatic variety, just why I can’t say. After having -ridden them a week it seemed impossible that they could be superior to -anything. - -We left Triplett at Rascora whence he was to take the Kawa round to -Cairo. I allowed six months for our trans-African trek. Two days after -his departure we faced the East in the conventional caravan formation, -led by an ass, the emblem of good luck. Our number had been increased -by approximately sixty nomads of my own tribe, the Moplahs, a number of -minor-Sheiks and a rabble of desert folk, Walatu-s, Gogo-s and Humda-s. -To these must be added the _doolahs_ or black camel-boys who closed the -file while Ab-Domen, on a powerful camel, held a roving commission, -darting hither and yon, or to and fro as needed. - -Our first objective was the Oasis of Arag-Wan. For several days we -passed through tiny desert villages, Uskeft, Shinghit, Tejigia and -others. There was no trace of the Wimpoles, but in this I was not -disappointed. It would have been humiliating to find her too quickly, -to stumble upon my lady on the first day out, to say “Oh, _there_ -you are!” and to have the whole episode over. I felt sure that our -meeting would be more dramatic. - -[Illustration: AB-DOMEN ALLAH - -Dr. Traprock’s faithful Dragoman who, as the author says, “literally -dragged” him through the desert.] - -[Illustration: Ab-Domen Allah] - -On the fourth day we faced the empty desert. Never had I felt more -completely a Sheik. My friends Swank and Whinney had caught my -enthusiasm as well as my mode of dress and address. - -“Hail, El-Swanko!” I would say; “Son of the well-known morn and -illustrious evening-star, may thy blessings be as the hairs on thy -camel’s head and thy bed as soft as his padded hoof.” - -“Back at you, Dhubel-dhub, Sheik of the Moplah Chapter,” my friend -would cry, being a bit unpracticed in the fine points of sheik-talk. -But he came on rapidly and was soon able to converse fluently in the -ornate hyperbole of the country. - -The desert and the ocean have been frequently compared but happenings -of the next few days were to bring this comparison home in no uncertain -terms. Swank and Whinney suffered acutely from their first experience -on camel-back and even I felt somewhat uneasy until I became accustomed -to DeLong’s pitch and roll. The “ship-of-the-desert” is no idle -poeticism. - -Beyond Tejigia we were completely out of sight of water. No trace of -passing craft broke the horizon about us. Like an admiral at the head -of his fleet I scanned the sky anxiously. Three days passed. On the -fourth a violent head wind forced us to tack in order to keep the sand -out of our eyes. - -The next morning I rose to face a titanic struggle between earth and -sky. The desert was rising. After a three-mile advance I gave the order -to heave-to. The camels were anchored fore-and-aft, to long tent-pegs. -The sand became increasingly fluid. Low ripples running over its face -rapidly rose to waves which dashed their stinging spray over us with -the rasping hiss of a devil’s hot breath. In the lulls I could hear the -wails of the _doolahs_ and the bubbling roar of the camels. - -Ab-Domen fought with the resource and bravery of a great commander. We -were now all crouching low against the blast. - -Suddenly I saw Ab-Domen point excitedly toward the East. A gigantic -tidal-wave of sand was bearing down upon us through the murk. Of what -followed I can only give a dim impression. I heard the parting of -several anchor ropes and the screams of the anguished beasts as they -and their riders were swept into oblivion. Then, as if to administer -the _coup-de-grace_, two enormous sand-spouts loomed up from the -south, hideous spinning wraiths, whirling dervishes of the desert, -personifying all the diabolic malevolence of this ghastly land. One -missed us, passing within a few yards of DeLong and myself; the other -moved directly across the compact mass of _doolahs_ who lay screaming -in its path. I had a glimpse of a score of black bodies sucked upward -into the swirling column, spinning helplessly in the vortex with arms -and legs out-thrust, grasping or kicking at the empty air. Then all was -dark. - - * * * * * - -Five hours later I dug myself out of suffocation and sand. The storm -had passed. Twelve _doolahs_ and two camels were missing. The rest -were badly disorganized. But the desert lay, calm and peaceful about -us. We had weathered the storm and, to my infinite joy, there, in the -distance, the white walls and bending palms of an oasis gleamed in the -evening sunlight--the wells of Arag-Wan. We had won through! - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -_The Wandering Wimpoles_ - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -Still no trace of the Wimpoles. I was up early and out betimes. We had -pitched our tents and rested our caravan in the shadow of the palms of -Arag-Wan. Here our water-skins, canteens, camels and other containers -were filled to overflowing. A trace of French thrift surprised me. The -wells had been fenced off and equipped with a red Bowser-pump guarded -by a half-cast Berber in brown cloak and battered visor-cap bearing the -legend “_Colonies d’Afrique_.” There was free-air but not free-water. - -“_Combien de gallons?_” asked the old chap. - -“Fill ’em up,” I ordered, knowing that the next station was hundreds of -miles to the eastward. - -[Illustration: AT THE OASIS OF ARAG-WAN - -Herman Swank, Traprock’s intrepid follower, superintending the -important process of filling the camels.] - -[Illustration: At the Oasis of Arag-Wan] - -During the filling process I wandered out into the desert. The air was -cool and delicious. A soft breeze whispered through the palm trees in -the branches of which chattered a lavender _tabit_ or doctor-bird. -Beyond the edge of oasis the low-growing palmettos, oleanders and -gun-sandarachs dwindled to stunted prickly pears and leprous leaved -squill-vines among which I noted the fresh tracks of several audad and -a jerboa. - -Intensely interested as I am in the secrets of nature’s book I became -completely absorbed in the perusal of this fascinating page, or perhaps -I should say foot-note. Bending over the imprinted tracks in silent -study I became aware of a soft tread on the sand back of me. I turned -my head silently but though I made the motion with the greatest caution -it was enough to stampede a flock of seven magnificent whiffle-hens, -birds of the utmost rarity, a cross between the ostrich and the bustard. - -They were off at once, loping across the desert with that supremely -easy and deceptive swing of their slightly bowed legs, traveling at a -gait which breaks the heart of the swiftest horse, their snowy plumes -gleaming in the sunshine. But what brought me up all standing was -the fact that the leader of the flock sported in the center of his -tail-feathers a gorgeous ostrich plume which very evidently did not -belong there. For it was bright blue! - -On the instant I recognized it as the ornament worn by Lady Wimpole at -the Casino in Monte Carlo! - -A second later I was rushing pell-mell back to camp to rouse Ab-Domen -and make preparations for pursuing the rapidly vanishing whiffle-hens. - -Fortunately my faithful dragoman had had the foresight to include in -the caravan a number of fleet Arabian steeds for just this sort of -sudden foray or side-excursion. I selected Whinney as my companion and -we were soon mounted in the deep, Moroccan saddles, bits and bridles -jingling with bells, burnouses flapping and long guns projecting -at dangerous angles. The animals were frantic to be off, rearing, -snorting, glaring with blood-shot eyes and blowing foam over the grooms -who clung on madly like hounds at a fox’s throat until I gave the word -“_Marasa!_”--“Cast off!” - -Off we flew like arrows. It would have been more impressive had we both -gone in the same direction. As it was the effect was somewhat scattered -and it was ten minutes before Whinney and I re-convened two miles from -the encampment and were able to lay a course in the supposed direction -of the birds. Our brutes had now calmed down but were still mettlesome -and we seemed to fly over the sandy floor, eagerly scanning the -horizon. Fortune favored us. The flock had stopped to feed among some -low-growing ground-aloes and we came on them suddenly in a fold of the -plain. - -Reining up I motioned Whinney to move with caution. We must rouse but -not frighten them if we hoped to keep within range. Cupping my hands I -gave a close approximation of the cry of the African whimbrell, a small -but savage bird which is the bane of the whiffle-hen whom it pesters by -sudden, unexpected attacks. The flock moved on at once looking about -and paying no attention to us as long as we remained at a distance. - -Thus we proceeded for the better part of the morning. The sun’s -heat was becoming dangerous. According to all laws of desert travel -we should have been safely sheltered in our tents but I kept on -obstinately. My theory was this; whiffle-hens, owing to the value of -their plumage, are often caught, corralled and domesticated as is the -ostrich. That this was the case with the birds we were following was -evident from the presence among them of Lady Wimpole’s blue feather. -They might well have been part of her caravan, have broken bounds and -launched out for themselves. On then, ever on! Fortune favors the -obstinate! - -As if to corroborate my thought, things began to happen. The -whiffle-hens suddenly stopped in their tracks and stood peering -forward. By moving to one side I noticed what their mass had concealed, -namely a few palm trees and tents at no great distance, the occupants -of which had apparently seen the birds approaching. To one side was a -temporary corral, its gate invitingly open. - -Sensing the psychological moment I gave the word to Whinney and with a -loud cry we sped forward. The whiffle-hens caught by this unexpected -onslaught dashed onward, instinctively rushing into their old quarters -outside of which we drew rein, to be praised, congratulated and -wondered at by the desert patriarch who had given up his precious -creatures as lost. Bending low he ground his face in the earth, raising -his head only to blow out small clouds of sand--for he was of that odd -sect, the _Ismilli_ or sand-blowers--mixed with a volley of laudatory -expletives. - -It was unmistakably the Wimpoles’ caravan. Hampers, hold-alls, -English-tents and impedimenta were everywhere in evidence. - -“Where are they, the Lords of your destiny?” I questioned. - -The old hen-shepherd blew out a final cloudlet of sand. - -“Yonder is their dwelling: the silken tent neath the third palm. They -are but just now risen.” - -Dismounting and throwing my reins to the native I strode off in the -direction indicated. As I drew near the tent I paused. - -Voices were raised in altercation. Far be it from me to be -eaves-dropper to a private family-quarrel, which, alas, I feared was an -all too frequent occurrence in the lives of this mismated pair. Ready -to withdraw I hesitated when a particularly sharp interchange forced -a decision. A burst of laughter was followed by a man’s voice crying -hoarsely--“By God, I’ll cut your throat!” Then a shriek rang out. It -was high time to interfere. A fight may be private but a murder is not. -Drawing aside the curtain I leapt into the tent. - -“Hold!” I cried. “Stay thy hand: infidel son of a swineherd’s sister; -or by the beard of the Prophet thou perish’st.” - -The speech was entirely impromptu and I thought it sounded well, but -somehow it fell flat. - -Lord Wimpole was alone. He was shaving. - -“I was speakin’ to that dam’ parrot,” he said brandishing his razor -toward Selim who was twisting about and making a noise like sick -automobile-gears. “Who are you, may I ask?” - -How low the fellow was! ... and how contemptible he looked, his face -half shaved, half lumpy with lather. One of life’s bitter jokes is that -practically every man must shave. As I thus philosophized the curtains -of an adjoining apartment opened and She appeared. - -Heavens! how beautiful she looked. She _en dishabille_, clutching about -her golden body the folds of a dazzling silk kimono, purple shot with -green. Her hair was down: being bobbed it was, of course, always down, -and her blue eyes were filmy with sleep. - -“Doctor....” she began. - -I checked her with an imperious gesture in which was expressed the -boundless freedom of the fiery Arab race. - -“El Sheik Abdullah-el-Dhub ak Moplah,” I announced. - -Lord Wimpole was plainly impressed. Hastily finishing his left cheek he -extended his hand. - -“’Oly mackerel ... a real Sheik. Put’er there. I’m a lord meself.” - -Ignoring his effusion I spoke solemnly. - -“Leagues have I ridden, I and my faithful follower, tracing the flight -of birds, yea, even of the swift-skimming whiffle-hens, which ever drew -nearer to their home even as my falcon-heart drew nearer to its nest, -the tent of the most beautiful.” - -I glanced at Lady Sarah who never batted an eye though one lovely lid -drooped ever so slightly. Continuing I said, in part. - -“And now, the journey done, I am a-weary and would fain repose myself -in the light of the gazelle’s eyes. My charger rests neath the nodding -fig-tree and my soul is parched and a-thirst.” - -This was a craftily contrived bit. Wimpole gaped through most of it but -got the final word. - -“Thirst” ... he cried. “Gad, I should say so. Me too. Jolly good idea.” - -A moment later, her ladyship having retired, Wimpole, Whinney and -I raised tall beakers of superb Scotch to my heartfelt toast, “the -loveliest lady in the world.” - -Would she hear me? I wondered. A husky voice from behind the curtain -answered my hope: - -“Lads, pass one in to me.” - - - - -CHAPTER V - -_Love and Lions_ - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -The afternoon, it appeared, was to be given over to a lion hunt in -spite of the objections of Effendi-Bazam, the _Karawan-bashi_ or leader -of the Wimpole party which, by the way, was as ill-organized and -amateur an outfit as I have ever seen. We were now not far from the -southern edge of the Ahaggar Plateau which thrusts its spurs into the -desert like the stony fingers of a giant hand clutching at the sands. -The ravines between the fingers were an ideal lurking place for desert -lions, mangy, ill-favored beasts but far more sporty than their South -African brothers. - -Effendi-Bazam was an undersized ottoman, hardly higher than a -foot-stool. He was thoroughly desert-broken but as timorous as a hare. - -“Great danger!” he cried, pointing northward when the hunting -expedition was proposed. “Great danger.” - -“Danger from what ... the lions?” I asked. - -[Illustration: A DESERT DIANA - -“The afternoon, it appeared, was to be given over to lion-hunting.”] - -[Illustration: A Desert Diana] - -He shook his head and I saw a convulsive swallow traverse the length of -his triplicate chins. Then he motioned me aside, out of ear-shot of the -others. - -“Not lions,” he whispered, “but worse ... a madder, wilder beast. O, -listen, I pray, important Sheik el-Dhub, listen and heed. We are in the -land of Azad,--Azad the Terrible. In yonder defiles he lurks and who so -ventures therein is defiled.” - -I should mention in passing that there was no suspicion of a pun in -Effendi’s original statement which was delivered in the Astrachan -dialect: the horrid thing is unavoidable in an honest translation. - -“Azad!” he continued,--“you have heard of him? Murder, blood, rapine -... they are but beads on his rosary. O, magnificent Moplah, I fear for -our lives ... for our lady. _Ai! Ai!_” - -He lay grovelling at my feet. - -“Rise, Effendi,” I ordered. “Due caution will be exercised.” - -Without understanding my words he departed, comforted. - -Azad! small wonder that at the mention of his name my face had assumed -its sternest, cruellest expression, for it is a name which is almost -unspeakable in the mouth of any self-respecting desert denizen. In -every story of the desert which I have studied there is one Sheik who -is described as the cruellest man in the world. To put the matter -arithmetically, these men added together equal one-half of Azad. That -is how wicked he was. - -He was said to be the son of a Spanish murderer who, having escaped -from the _bastilliano_ at Cadiz, lived for a time with a gypsy woman of -unknown origin. Azad was the result. From his earliest years he was an -outlaw and defy-er of authority. Swaggering, brawling, killing, making -love, he roamed from one Mediterranean port to another, gathering -about him a following of riff-raff and ne’er-do-wells. Then came his -notorious abduction of Miss Sedley from the mission station at Fez. -This outrage assumed international proportions. Our government, after a -sharp interchange of notes with France, proposed a punitive expedition. -Two months later President Felix Faure was assassinated. Then rumors -began to leak out that Miss Sedley did not wish to be rescued and the -affair was dropped. - -From that time the name of Azad became a synonym for unbridled -license. Many a time I have heard the fishermen along the Moroccan -coast say, as the thunder rolled among the coast-ranges. “Aha; there is -old Azad, laughing at the law!” - -If we were near Azad we were near violence, that was certain, but you -may be sure I said nothing of this to the others since there was naught -to be gained by alarming them. I had another and better plan. I must -divert them from their proposed expedition into the hills. - -About four in the afternoon when the sun was beginning to lose its -violence the horses were saddled and the gun-bearers gathered under the -palm trees, Effendi meanwhile becoming more and more anxious. - -“Milady,” I said, addressing Lady Sarah who had just come out of her -dressing tent, “have you ever hunted desert lions before?” - -“Only yesterday,” she replied, “but we’d no luck. Not so much as a -whisker did we see.” - -“We didn’t go far enough,” put in Lord Wimpole. “Effendi stuck about -the edges of the hills.” - -“Curious ...” I mused, “that you saw no lions ... for there are plenty -of them there ... and yet....” - -“Wot are you drivin’ at?” blustered Wimpole. “Wouldn’t we of seen ’em -if they’d been there?” - -This was just what I wanted. - -“Not necessarily,” then, as if the thought had just occurred to me. “By -jove; this is an ideal place for netting lions!” - -Both Lord and Lady Wimpole were instantly intrigued. - -“What ho?” they cried simultaneously. - -“Here is the idea,” I explained. “Over there is typical lion country, -nothing there but sand and lions. But you can’t see them; nature -takes care of that, you know, protective coloration. Tawny, yellowish -beasts--they’re invisible at ten feet. But they can be caught. How many -camels have you?” - -“Twenty-two” supplied Effendi. - -“Good. Take all the nets that go over their loads and fasten them -together. Quick.” - -“Do as the Sheik says,” said Lord Wimpole. - -An hour later we were ready, the camel nets in a huge ball being rolled -easily over the desert. About three miles distant I had noted a rocky -flume which narrowed at its lower end. It was ideal for my purpose. -Spreading the nets below I ran a strong camels-hair rope through the -outer edges making a gathering string which was then carried up and -over the projecting rock. At my direction a score or more of _doolahs_ -began prodding the high bank of sand that rose between the rock-walls -of the gorge. First in a slow trickle, then in a steady stream the sand -slid down into the nets. Occasionally a large mass would fall in which -I thought I detected a flurried motion but, from our distance, I could -not be sure. When the sand had piled itself to a height of about twelve -feet, the base of the symmetrical cone reaching to the edge of the nets -I gave a word of command, “Now!” and the _doolah_-boys began pulling -hastily at the gathering-rope. The edge of the nets rose neatly, -closing-in around the top of the cone. Phase one of my operation was -complete. - -Next came the final and exciting step of freeing the nets of sand. This -was accomplished by yawing the gathering-rope violently from side to -side until the net was sufficiently loosened to allow its being dragged -across the desert floor. Twice, thrice the sturdy _doolahs_ hurled -their bulks on the rope. - -“She starts ... she moves!” shouted Whinney. - -Once in motion, the sand spun rapidly through the meshes until it was -reduced to a small mass in the center of which I could detect two -vague, but furiously revolving forms ... lions! - -“Spearmen, ready!” I commanded, for it does not do to be unprepared. - -Lord Wimpole, express-rifle in hand, was apoplectic with excitement. - -“Do we shoot ’em?” he cried. - -“No ... no!” I motioned him back. “They will kill each other.” - -Sure enough, after a few moments’ fearful clawing and growling the -fierce struggle amid the strong meshes quieted down. Two precautionary -shots into the net, and the battle was over. At our feet lay the -mangled remains of two tawny lions, exactly matching the shade of the -surrounding sand. - -“For milady’s boudoir.” I said quietly. “In my own country we do it -with a sieve; it is much simpler.” - -“’Straordinary!” said Lady Wimpole giving me a meaning look from her -brilliant eyes, and we made our way back toward the camp voting the -affair a complete success. - -We dined in state in the Wimpoles’ dining-tent. It was a lucullan -repast of European delicacies varied with African dishes superbly -cooked by a French chef; hors d’œuvres, a delicious thin soup, audad -steak and Egyptian quail succeeded each other, each course being marked -by its appropriate wine from sherry through the whites and reds to -cognac. - -“Couldn’t bring any champagne”; apologized Lord Wimpole through a -mouthful of quail, “tried to but it blew up. No ice in the dam’ desert?” - -Lady Sarah looked on coldly as her husband passed through the familiar -phrases of garrulity, incoherence and speechlessness. She rose -disdainfully just as his lordship slipped heavily from his camp chair. -“May I speak to your ladyship a moment ... alone.” I murmured. - -She nodded. - -“Effendi, remove his lordship.” - -I followed her out under the cool stars, whispering to Whinney as I -passed, “Get the horses ready, we must away.” - -At the edge of the oasis Lady Sarah paused and faced me. We were -alone--at last! Overhead a million eyes looked down from the twinkling -gallery of heaven; far to the west a gibbous moon shone palely; night -enveloped us--in fact it was going on midnight. Clearing my throat I -began. - -“O woman, strange and mysterious, lamp of my life, it is not for me to -rend the veil of thy secrecy, but my soul is eager in its questioning -and my heart cries for an answer. Tell me, if thou so will’st, why -did’st thou fly from thy nest when thou had’st made tryst with me at -the police-station?” - -To my delight she caught the elevation of my style at once and replied -unhesitatingly. - -“Listen, O desert-man, Sheik Adullah-el-Dhub, and let thy heart attend, -for oft has my own voice upbraided me that I did thus walk out on thee. -Know then that it was not my will but that of the Sheik Wimpole, my -over-lord, that hurried me hither-ward.” - -Though I winced at the reference to her over-lord I could but admire -her fluent mastery of the nomadic tongue. - -“He it was,” she continued, “who plucked me from thy side, fearing the -long delays of the law. But thou gottest my message?” - -“Yea, Princess--” I answered, at which she smiled, pleased evidently, -at the promotion,--“Yea, even so,--and thy signal plume likewise. -’Twas well contrived the matter of the whiffle-hens. Trust thy woman’s -wit.” - -“’Twas simple,” she answered. “They were in the keeping of Kashgi, the -sand-blower, an ancient stupid. Under guise of petting the bell hen -I affixed my feather. Something told me they would find you, O Great -South-wind.” - -Her words moved me deeply. - -“Straight as the thrown lance or the sped arrow,” I cried, feeling that -the moment for tender mastery had come, “so came thy harbinger to me, O -woman of bronze and gold. Allah be praised, whose hand hath guided me -since that first fair evening when at the ocean’s edge I marvelled at -thy sky-line!” - -She looked down at me, for she was slightly taller than I--tenderly, -her rugged contours softened and beautified in the silver light. It was -like moonlight on a cliff. My heart pounded furiously--her presence, -the silence of the desert ... the cognac.... I was fired by emotion. -Drawing myself up to her full height I stretched out my arms. - -“O, Woman----” - -On the instant I paused, thunderstruck. Far away on the northern -horizon a light gleamed for a moment and was gone. Was it fact or fancy -that made me think I saw a vague shape in the shadows before me. -Instantly the thought of Azad flashed through my mind and brought me to -my senses. - -[Illustration: ALONE AT LAST - -“I was fired by emotion. Drawing myself up to her full height I -stretched out my arms. - -‘O, woman....’”] - -[Illustration: Alone at Last] - -“Lady Sarah,” I said hurriedly--“I must defer what I was going to -say until another time. I was forgetting what made me ask for this -interview--the night--your beauty--but the point is this. You, we, all -of us are in imminent danger. On the hills yonder lies the camp of Azad -the Terrible!” - -I could see her pale in the moonlight. - -“Even now his spies are probably prowling about, watching your camp, -counting your men, your camels, your--women.” - -“What would you suggest?” she asked tremulously. - -“Flight--” I replied boldly. - -Her glance expressed both surprise and disappointment. - -“Yes,” I repeated harshly, “flight! I have never been afraid to be -cautious. Listen, Lady Sarah. Your caravan is ill-equipped. Effendi -is strong on commissary but weak on munitions. There is but one thing -to be done. We must consolidate. Azad will not attack tonight; he -knows I am here. At dawn strike camp and remove to the Southward. -In the meantime I will speed to my own men and summon them to your -assistance. There is not a moment to be lost.” - -Hastily retracing our steps we reached the camp where, at the portal of -the luxurious tent, I bent over Lady Sarah’s hand, lightly brushing her -firm knuckles with my lips. - -“Farewell,” I breathed. “Remember, strike camp at dawn. Be of good -heart--and do not forget--the Sheik Abdullah-el-Dhub.” - -“How could I?” she whispered, smiling strangely. - -As she lifted the tent curtain I had a glimpse of the elaborate -interior, hung with silken draperies and furnished with many-hued -cushions and a broad low divan over the edge of which, upside down, -hung the brutish face of Sir Horace Wimpole. - -“Her over-lord!”---- - -Ugh! A shudder of revulsion shook me. - -A moment later Whinney and I were rushing through the night like great -white birds while in my heart echoed the words of an old Persian love -song-- - - “Farewell, farewell, my sweet gazelle, - With ruby eyes----” - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -_A Desperate Predicament_ - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -Whinney and I were facing a difficult task, a hard ride at night just -when we should have been going to bed. This meant little to me for I -have frequently gone two and three nights without sleep but it was -torture to my companion who is that most pathetic of human beings, a -creature of regular habits. Twice, as we plodded along, he lunged from -his saddle and as I lifted him he kept murmuring “Must have my eight -hours ... must have my eight hours.” All efforts to keep him awake were -in vain and I began to despair of ever reaching our destination until -I hit on the idea of fastening my burnous between our horses forming a -cradle into which my friend fell with a pleased smile and the drowsy -comment “Make up lower seven!” - -On, on we sped at a smooth, steady pace. Now and again the horses would -separate to avoid a thorny squill-bush and Whinney would be tossed -lightly in his blanket; but he slept soundly through it all. - -[Illustration: REGINALD WHINNEY - -“That most pathetic of human beings, a creature of regular habits.”] - -[Illustration: Reginald Whinney] - -I was glad to be alone, alone with my fears, my anxieties and my great -love, for that Lady Sarah felt the force of my flaming passion I could -not doubt. Had she not called me to her side? Had she not looked into -my eyes that very evening with an expression which might have led me -to the gates of Paradise, had I not been interrupted by Azad’s signal -flash? - -Azad! The thought of him was a knife in my heart. “On, Thunderer, on.” -I urged my willing horse, patting his wet neck and shoulder. Then moved -by a sentimental desire for a confidant I leaned forward. The brute -seemed to understand for he bent back an attentive ear. “It is for -her!” I whispered. Thunderer whirled instantly and Whinney was thrown -far into the night. - -“Not _to_ her ... _for_ her, you idiot!” I ground out, savagely tugging -at the reins and forcing my brace of beasts back toward our passenger. -But though we were soon under way again the horses were now restive and -difficult to manage. - -I had been steering a course by the stars, aiming at a particularly -large, red one which looked familiar and which, Whinney agreed, had -been directly over our camp. But there must have been something wrong -with my calculations. Most Sheiks steer entirely by the heavenly bodies -but I had hardly had time to get the hang of them. - -The sky was fading to a delicate beryl-green when I decided to let the -horses have their own way. As I loosed my rein they turned gracefully -at a right angle and broke into an encouraging gallop. Soon the heavens -were flooded with the invading light, the stars paled and the sun’s -rays shot across the desert. With the sun just peering over the horizon -every stunted shrub cast a long blue shadow, every shallow depression -became a pool of liquid purple into which Thunderer and his fellow -rushed, loose-reined. - -We must have ridden a dozen miles out of our way following the red -star line and I was beginning to wonder if the intelligence of the -Arab horses was all that it was said to be, when I detected a distant -something on the horizon. It was still too far off for identification -but I scanned it eagerly. A quarter hour passed and I could clearly -make out an oasis and beneath it tents--our tents! - -“Time to get up,” I yelled, bringing the two horses close together, -thus squeezing Whinney’s head gently between their bellies, causing -him to open his eyes in astonishment. - -“There we are,” I shouted. “Get up, man; climb into your saddle.” - -He clumsily obeyed my injunction and having freed my burnous, I gave -Thunderer his head and dashed forward, glad to be temporarily rid of my -sleepy companion. As I flashed by I had a glimpse of Whinney checking -his horse and stopping to wipe the sleep from his eyes. Little did I -realize it at the time but my leaving him at that moment was to be -one of the determining events of my life, an event without which that -life would inevitably have been lost and this story, horrible to think -of!--never written. - -Thunderer and I covered the last quarter mile in record time, jumped a -series of tent-ropes and recumbent camels and bounded into the center -of a somnolent compound. - -“To arms! To arms!” I shouted, brandishing my own. “Your queen is in -danger.” Unconsciously I quoted the beautiful lines from the Black -Crook, probably the most exquisite lyric drama in the English language. -At my words startled Arabs popped from the encircling tents or raised -themselves from the masses of baggage upon which they had been -sleeping. In a moment I was closely hemmed in by a circle of swart, -savage faces. “Heavens,” I thought, “how could Ab-Domen have recruited -such tough travelling companions?” - -Then, raising my hands, I addressed them, speaking boldly, fiercely, -talking down to them as it were in order to let them know their place. - -“Hearken, O, Scum of the Sahara, and hear the words of your master, -Abdullah-el-Dhub....” - -A roar of laughter and a mighty cry of “Yaa ... a ... ah” greeted -my ears and with a sickening sense of defeat I realized that I was -surrounded by enemies. I might have known! The men were of a different -type from any of my camp-followers. My Arabs were swart but these were -swarter. I instinctively looked over their heads to warn Whinney of my -predicament. - -“Back,” I shouted. “Back,--I am captured.” - -But I might have saved my breath. The plucky fellow was already a -speck on the horizon having fled the instant he saw and heard what was -transpiring. There was only one desperate chance left; to jump the -encircling crowd. Spurring Thunderer with both heels, I gave him a -loose rein. Gathering himself together he made a glorious leap from a -standing position high over the head of the tallest Arab. For a second -I thought I had broken through when, straight and sure, rose a native -spear hurled by a gigantic Bassikunu. It struck my courageous beast -directly below me and with a scream of anguish he fell on the stout -shaft, the point being forced upward through bone, sinew, entrails, -saddle-blanket and saddle. Only the greatest nimbleness on my part -saved me from a fatal puncture. - -Like a soaring bird I leaped from the saddle, my burnous floating in -billows about me as I planed earthward there to be seized by a hundred -hands, disarmed, my hands trussed behind me, my feet bound in morocco -leather and my head covered with a filthy gunny-sack. - -About me I heard coarse laughter and an occasional remark in the crude -Bassikunu dialect. - -“Hah!” said one, kicking me contemptuously, “this will be a pleasant -surprise for Azad.” - -So? I was in _his_ hands. O, the bitterness of my reflection that Azad, -the cruellest of men, held me thus in his power, and that far from -having captured me I, Traprock, had deliberately ridden into his arms. -The humiliation, the ignominy of it. By a desperate movement I managed -to struggle to my feet. - -Bound as I was, with my head covered I must have presented the -appearance of a contestant in some grotesque gymkhana event. After a -few convulsive leaps I fell heavily, landing in the live embers of the -cook’s fire over which hung a kettle of some nauseous brew which I -promptly upset in my spasmodic efforts to escape the burning brands; -all this to the accompaniment of uproarious laughter. - -Rolling over in one final wriggle I felt something hard under my -hands back of me. My grasp tightened on it by instinct as I lost -consciousness from faintness and suffocation. I knew vaguely that I was -being lifted by two men after which I was thrown down heavily; then -blackness closed about me. Matters were not looking their best. - - * * * * * - -My first impressions of Azad were gained from his voice. He had -returned to his camp during my fainting spell and stood not far from -the spot where I had been thrown. - -“Well, did you get the women?” asked one of his followers. - -“No,” he said. “By her side was a mighty Sheik--a Moplah--so my spy -tells me, a man of great strength and cunning. I resolved to bide my -time. Tonight she will be alone with her half-witted husband and her -idiot of a Karawan-bashi and--” - -“You say a Moplah chief was with her?” questioned an unfortunate -follower who had not learned the penalty of speaking out of turn in a -conversation with Azad; “why this very day....” - -He got no further. Azad gave an almost inaudible command at which the -interrupting voice suddenly thinned to a wheeze as if the wind-pipe had -been closed by violent pressure. A convulsive gurgling sob was followed -by a low moan and I felt the impact of a body falling heavily on the -sand near me. - -Though I could see nothing I must confess that Azad’s voice was the -most unpleasant I have ever heard. Far from being harsh and dominating -it was low, cool, almost tired. It faded away at the end of sentences -as if the possessor had withdrawn himself from human contact. I sensed -the presence of one to whom human life, even his own--was nothing. If a -snake had a voice I feel sure it would be the voice of Azad. - -“What was the fellow saying?” asked those icy tones. - -[Illustration: AZAD THE TERRIBLE - -“If a snake had a voice I feel sure it would be the voice of Azad.”] - -[Illustration: Azad the Terrible] - -“That we have this day captured a Moplah chief, O Sire,” was the -humble reply, “even now he lies nearby in the shelter of thy tent where -he awaits thy pleasure.” - -“Produce,” said Azad. - -I was lifted and borne into a brighter light. An instant later the sack -was pulled from my head. It was a critical moment; now, if ever, was -the time for dissimulation. I must pretend that my fainting fit still -endured; upon that depended my life. Even a man as unspeakably cruel as -Azad finds no satisfaction in torturing an unconscious enemy. There is -no pleasure in it. - -I was not mistaken. After a brief inspecting during which I scarcely -breathed I was again flung into the shadows. - -“Let him wait,” said the voice of Azad,--“when he comes to we will....” - -I can not repeat his proposed line of action but the mere mention of it -nearly produced a real swoon. - -For an hour I lay motionless, thinking, thinking, the thought drumming -in my brain,--“How should I get out of this mess?” About me the sounds -of the camp gradually quieted. The heat grew intense and I knew that -it was the middle of the day, the time of the siesta. And then again I -became conscious of the object which I had clutched when I was first -thrown on the ground. Turning it over in my bound hands I realized -that it was a knife, evidently one of the cook’s utensils which I had -knocked over. To cut the bonds back of me was difficult but I finally -managed it by lying on the edge of the knife. One by one I felt the -thongs part though I injured myself severely in the process for as each -strand of leather gave way the blade sank in my flesh and the sand was -reddened about me. - -Faint but desperate I realized that I must act quickly in the brief -interval offered to me. Freeing my feet I cautiously lifted my burlap -veil and peered about. I lay near the entrance of Azad’s tent in the -recesses of which I could see his body sunk in deep slumber, guarded by -a drowsy slave. Just beyond the outer curtain lay the form of a humble -Bassikunu, the unfortunate creature who had interrupted his lord and -master. The hem of his dirty brown mantle almost touched that of my -burnous. - -An open attempt to escape now meant certain death. For one mad moment I -thought of springing to my feet, cleaver in hand, and dispatching the -filthy Azad with one clean blow. But what was to be gained. The odds -were too great. Slowly a plan formed in my mind. - -With the silence of a snake I edged slightly nearer the slain Bassikunu -until our garments overlapped. It was the work of an hour which seemed -like twelve for me to move his corpse out of his coarse garment and -into the voluminous folds of my cloak. Moving a fraction of an inch at -a time, the sweat of excitement pouring from my body, I burrowed and -pushed and pulled and hauled until we had at last changed places, the -humble camel-driver lying inside in my Moplah cloak while I sprawled -beyond the tent wall in his blood stained and ignoble raiment. A few -feet from me on the sand lay his tongue, plucked out by the roots, a -pretty sample of Azad’s work. - -Scarcely had I effected this perilous change of costume when the camp -was suddenly in an uproar. Into the midst of the compound bounded an -excited Arab on a foam flecked horse. Azad leaped to alertness with -amazing speed. - -“Speak, Mulai Hadji,” he commanded. - -“Their caravan approaches!” said the rider excitedly. For a second I -cherished the thought that my own men were on the way to my rescue -but this hope died as the speaker continued, “even now they are -moving southward,--their camels rich with plunder, their men few and -ill-armed.” - -“What of the Moplah caravan?” asked Azad who was evidently a man -of caution rather than bravery. I hung on the answer in a fever of -excitement for I knew it referred to my own expedition. The information -was delivered with a scornful laugh. - -“The fools! They continue Eastward in search of their lost master. -A day’s journey away they must be nearing the Wells of Tabala. The -fruit is ripe, O Mighty Azad; the golden pomegranate is ready for your -plucking.” - -The golden pomegranate! That could be none other than Sarah, my lovely -bird, flying southward at my behest, straight into the clutches of this -vulture, this ... it was too much. Leaping to my feet I ran toward the -camel-compound. Happily, in my humble costume, I was unnoticed; I was -simply a Bassikunu, one more or less. Seizing and mounting the first -available camel I joined the mob which was surging northward. My one -hope was to detach myself from this filthy band, overtake my own men -and bring them back to the rescue. Cruel as it seemed to desert Lady -Sarah at this juncture therein lay the only practical plan. But on a -slow moving camel my task was hopeless. Ahead of me rode one of the -sub-sheiks on a magnificent sorrel mare. What must be done must be done -quickly. For an instant he checked his horse to avoid a tent-rope and -in that instant I acted, urging my clumsy brute forward and riding off -the Arab, pushing him with all my force against the obstruction until -horse and rider fell sprawling. Dropping from my camel I was at his -side in a second, pretending to assist him, in doing which I twisted -his head completely around so that though his breast lay upward his -face was buried in the sand. He fainted without a sound and a moment -later, wrapped in his great cloak, I sprang into the empty saddle and, -cautiously at first and finally at full speed, rushed off toward the -east. - -The whole operation took no more than three seconds and could never -have been accomplished other than by taking advantage of the peculiar -conditions of confusion, etc., and by acting upon what has always been -my greatest safeguard--instinct. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -_The Escape_ - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -Free! Free once more. With a glorious feeling of elation I bounded -off across the desert. Glancing over my shoulder I saw that I had -accomplished my get-away without attracting attention. Azad’s men -were streaming steadily northward, a low cloud of dust marking their -progress. I watched intently for any sign of pursuit but none came. -From the unfortunate tribesman who had ridden my mount I feared no -further trouble. The strength of my hands is a constant surprise to me -and when I twisted the fellow’s head I had heard something crack with -the ominous, final snap of a too-tightly wound toy. Unless I was very -much mistaken the creature was permanently out of order. - -My hours of unconsciousness and captivity must have been longer than -I realized for I noted that the day was far spent. This was a source -of comfort to me for hope sprang in my breast that the sun would -disappear before the treacherous scoundrel I had evaded could come up -with the Wimpole caravan. Unconsciously I encouraged the orb of day in -his descent, urging him with prayers and curses to sink as rapidly as -possible. Sheltered by night the cortege of my lady might yet pass a -few hours in safety, hours fraught with fiendish anxiety for me. - -My plans for the future hung on a gossamer thread of chance, that of -locating the Wells of Tabala to which, according to Azad’s informant, -my faithful Moplahs had repaired. My only indication was the vague one -of direction. The wells lay to the eastward and eastward the star of -Traprock took its way, blindly, desperately. Pray Heaven my men would -go slowly and cautiously as they might well do considering my absence. - -After an hour’s hard riding when all traces of the enemy had faded -into nothingness I paused and from an inner pocket drew out my map of -the Sahara. As I feared it was too small in scale to be of definite -advantage. Imaginary lines such as the Tropic of Cancer, the 20th -Parallel and numerous meridians were shown with perfect distinctness. -These would have served admirably had I been going to an imaginary -place but the Wells of Tabala were of poignantly definite import and -of them there was no trace. With a sigh of resignation I thrust the -document back in its case and took up the reins. - -These first leagues of my journey were by no means as uneventful as -they sound. The reader must remember that my horse and I were utter -strangers to each other. This the mare resented with all the fire -of the most pure-blooded Arabian steed than which no animal is more -difficult when aroused. With true feminine deceptiveness she concealed -her feeling for a considerable period during which we gathered -tremendous speed. Then suddenly, after a great leap in air, she landed -stiff-legged, stock-still in a cloud of sand. Fortunately I had taken -care to twist the Bassikunu cloak firmly about the pommel of the saddle -or all had been lost. As it was I flew straight on over the animal’s -head, fetching up with a snap and swinging downward violently at her -feet. She immediately reared, endeavoring to kill me with her sharp -hoofs. I now hung like a human apron under her foaming muzzle, her eyes -luckily being blinded by the heavy folds. In a trice I threw my arms -about the thrashing knees, and, quickly slipping my grip down to the -fetlocks, crossed her fore-legs, throwing my full strength against her -shoulder as she fell. With a whimper of defeat the gallant beast rolled -over on her side while I sat comfortably on her head and regained my -breath, thanking my stars for the years of experience on our western -plains which now stood me in such good stead. - -Then, unwrapping the burnous, I looked long and steadily into the -blood-shot eyes of the animal below me. Gradually the wild gaze -softened until with a sigh of resignation the soft lids dropped and -the tense neck relaxed. As plainly as a horse could the mare said “I -surrender; you are my master.” - -I instantly rose, taking the animal at her word and she stood -peacefully still while I tightened the girths. From then on there was -no more trouble from that quarter. - -If we had travelled fast before we now fairly flew. The sorrel swung -steadily on as if to make amends for her past captiousness. By this -time the sun was below the horizon and purple shadows vast and -threatening rose from the wastes about me, vague towers and impalpable -wraiths of darkness that loomed and fled. The low voice of the night -wind began its sobbing. Often there would come to my ear the sound of -a broken, inarticulate sentence as if some inhuman tongue had babbled -a mysterious language: again the gray shape of a jackal glided swiftly -along the edge of my vision or a desert rat scuttled across my path. As -the darkness deepened it became peopled with all manner of visionary -terrors and I could readily understand and accept the myriad djinns, -evil spirits and ghosts of the misty East. - -An hour later, as my heart sank lower, the sorrel suddenly checked her -stride, faltered and came to a full stop. “Poor brute,” I thought, “you -are spent. It is the beginning of the end.” But as if to contradict -me she thrust out her nose and neighed shrilly, following this by a -cautious advance. Plainly she had detected something of which I was -not aware. Sure enough, a hundred yards farther on I caught the sound -of low moaning, pitiful but inexpressibly human and comforting in that -dark wilderness. We made our way quickly in the direction of the sound -and were soon rewarded by seeing a vague black form against the desert -grayness. Hastily dismounting I bent over the object. - -“Who are you?” I asked. - -“Pity ... pity....” begged a weak voice. - -[Illustration: ZALOOFA - -“She was a Circassian, lured from the convent-school of -snake-charmers at Timbuctoo.”] - -[Illustration: Zaloofa] - -Bending lower I saw that the speaker was a woman, young and beautiful, -her pale features haggard to the point of exhaustion. When I had -given her a reviving draught from my emergency flask and assured her -of my friendly attitude she outlined her pitiful story. It was another -sample of Azad’s dastardly work. She was a Circassian, lured from the -Convent-school of snake-charmers at Timbuctoo. For a month she had been -the sheik’s favorite, then cast aside, poisoned as he thought and left -to bleach on the sands. But her constant inoculation with the venom of -her pets had made her practically immune to the deadly toxin and for -three days she had lain helpless ’neath the furious sun, struggling to -reach Tabala. - -“Tabala!” At the word I sprang up. “Whither?” I cried. “Tell me -quickly. I go but to procure aid.” - -“’Tis not far,” she murmured. “An hour’s ride, perhaps, under yon -constellation of El Whizbang.” And with the words she lapsed into -unconsciousness. Covering her gently with my cloak I leaped into the -saddle. Bright above me glistened the starry diadem of El Whizbang and -once more the sorrel and I thundered on through the night, our hearts -alight with courage and hope. - -The desert woman’s direction was straight and sure. With startling -suddenness a group of tall palms sprang into being. The neighing of -my excited mare roused muffled cries, movement, bustle and confusion -as vague tents disgorged their startled inmates. “Swank! Whinney, -Ab-Do-men!” I shouted. - -Answering shouts of “Traprock” pierced the night. - -There was no time lost in parley. A brief pause for rest, a change of -costume, a fresh mount and with twenty picked men armed to the teeth I -turned back over a road I was not likely to forget. - -“Westward-ho!” I shouted, heading the gallant troop, and we thundered -off to the rescue of all that I held most dear. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -_Sheik to Sheik_ - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -In the short interval at our camp I had given Ab-Domen explicit orders -as to just what to do. Twenty of the best tribesmen and all the -available horses came with me. The men were mostly Moplahs with a few -Kadas. They had long roamed the desert and having had much experience -with tourists, were as rapacious and blood-thirsty a lot as one could -wish. In addition I had Swank and Whinney, trusted and true, with the -exact amount of intelligence necessary to handle the turbulent natives -and no more. - -Ab-Domen stayed with the caravan. His instructions were to retrace his -steps with the outfit which was, of course, slow moving. He was to make -one day’s journey after which he was to pitch camp and be prepared to -welcome us back or dig in and resist to the death should Allah so will. -My parting with the ponderous dragoman had been unusually affecting and -it was with a stern, set countenance that I headed my impetuous band. - -For some time we rode in silence. The vault of heaven was still black -at the zenith but at its eastern edge glowed a widening band of -silver that flickered and ran fitfully about the horizon as the flame -runs around the wick of an oil stove. I never light my four-cylinder -blue-flame without thinking of that momentous hour. Back of us the -star, El Whizbang, sank to its usual matinal extinction, a faithful and -exemplary planet, having performed its good deed for the night. We soon -reached the crouching form of the Circassian woman with whom I left -supplies, a loaf of bread, a goatskin of camels-milk and several of the -latest magazines and whose location I marked for Ab-Domen’s guidance -with a small red flag mounted on a spear. Thus we left her, looking -like the eighteenth green of a desert golf course. - -In the growing light the trained eyes of my Moplahs easily followed -the vague tracks of my previous ride. No wind had risen to disturb the -shifting sands and though invisible to me their practised vision easily -picked up the trail. They were much puzzled when we reached the site -of my struggle with the sorrel where the deep hoof marks and trampled -sand were plain to all. “You fell?” asked Ouidja, a cadaverous Kada. -I laughed at the idea and shortly narrated the incident to their -great delight, and ejaculations of “_Bishmillah!_” “_Biskra!_” and -“_Wahully!_” - -Day now streamed lucidly over the undulating plain but though the -tension of the previous hours was somewhat relaxed by action the -increasing light brought to me an increase of anxiety. By now Azad’s -camp would be astir. At this very moment the attack might be beginning -if--alas! it had not already ended. This despairful thought prompted an -attempt on my part to shorten the distance between us. - -Between our present position and the original site of Azad’s camp -lay an hour’s hard riding. From that point he had gone north while -my course had been east. We had been describing two sides of a right -angle. Obviously the intelligent thing to do was to close the triangle -and take the shortest possible route along its hypotenuse. “Halt!” I -ordered. - -[Illustration: THE RESCUE - -“Superb! you are like a swift-running tide-race foaming over a hidden -reef.”] - -[Illustration: The Rescue] - -Hastily dismounting I drew an accurate diagram on the desert, which -is ideally adapted for geometric study. All my life long I have clung -to the knowledge that the square of the hypotenuse is equal to the -sum of the squares of the other two sides. It stood me in good stead -now. Quickly figuring the approximate distance which Azad and I -must have travelled I leaped into the saddle with a cry of “Q.E.D.” to -the mystification of my followers. From now on I was leader indeed. -According to my figures and time allowance the distance to be travelled -should be about nineteen miles which, with our superb animals, we could -expect to travel in a little more than an hour. “Pray Heaven Euclid was -right,” I murmured. - -The sun had cleared the horizon and struck brightly on our flowing -cloaks. - -“You are a wonderful sight!” cried Swank, who had ridden off at a -distance to take a photograph. “Superb! You are like a swift-running -tide-race foaming over a hidden reef!” - -But I was oblivious to his poetic similes for, far off but dead ahead, -I seemed to see an answering gleam of white and a faint dusty blur on -the horizon. My heart stood still as my horse bounded forward more -swiftly than ever. - -“On!” I shouted hoarsely. The others caught the infection of my -excitement and we thundered onward. - -Yes! ... it was Azad and his assassins! - -After an interminable half-hour we could see them plainly. The attack -was on in all its fury. Very evidently Azad’s men had seen our -approach, even as we had detected them, and had thrown themselves on -their quarry with the idea of having that part of the job done with -before we could come up. But they had reckoned without the intelligence -and courage of Lady Wimpole and the brute obstinacy of her husband. -Wimpole, it appeared later, the instant he suspected the hostile -intentions of Azad’s party, had formed his group into a British square -which he considered absolutely unbreakable. - -We could see the huddled formation in the center with the encircling -cordon of Bassikunus galloping about it. The sight of a merry-go-round -invariably brings back that tragic picture. Soon we heard the fierce -cries of “_Blida! Laghouat blida!_” a Bassikunu form of unprintable -torture which clearly accounted for the desperate resistance of Effendi -and his men. Poor Effendi! I had feared he would give up at the first -shot, but I did him an injustice. - -Now we were only a half-mile away but O, what dire things can happen in -a half-mile. How I cursed the desert for its magnificent distances as -I urged my horse forward. An occasional shot, a scream, an imprecation -now mingled with the rising dust. At intervals twos and threes of -the attacking party broke from the circle, darted forward and plucked -some screeching fragment from the human wall. A camel dashed by me, -bellowing piteously, the upper third of his hump cut cleanly off by -some terrific sabre-swing which gave him the singular look of a table -topped mountain. Brick by brick, stone by stone, life by life, the -living parapet was being torn away. - -Now in the center I could see the little group of defenders, smoking -revolvers in hand, Effendi-Bazam crouching low, praying and firing -simultaneously, Lord Wimpole, white as paper, Lady Sarah--my Sarah! -redder than ever; a flaming beacon of courage, her bottle-green veil -flying behind her and her eyes snapping behind her dark-blue glasses. -Horrors! The square had crumbled!--the wall was down. - -With a loud cry of “_Blida!_” the desert-scum rose like a tidal-wave -overcoming the gallant group in a final heart-rending crash. A cloud of -dust, pierced by wails of agony, obscured the ghastly details of the -picture. - -At times like this one does not think clearly; one acts. It was so -in this instance. Without a word being spoken Swank and Whinney -ranged themselves on either side of me, my Moplahs forming a -dense triangle at our backs. The enemy had instantly whirled about -presenting everywhere a front bristling with guns, lances and gleaming -_simlas_--the long, curved desert-swords. With increasing speed we -hurled ourselves at the mass. Representing as I did what efficiency -experts call the “point of contact” my position was one of extreme -danger. - -Let me but dispose of the first man! He was a gigantic fellow with -a gun approximately twelve feet long pointed directly at me. As he -pressed his finger to the trigger my automatic barked and he crumpled -up with a blue-edged hole in his forehead. The next instant our -crushing wedge split Azad’s warriors into fragments. In that first -moment of terrific impact Swank and Whinney stood by me nobly. Only men -trained in the rush-hour tactics of civilized subways could have come -through alive. - -With the first penetration accomplished it was a case of hand to hand -fighting. Everywhere were struggling knots of humanity, swaying, -plunging, stabbing, slicing ... it was hell let loose. A single thought -in mind, I searched frantically for Lady Sarah. She was nowhere to be -seen. Weaving my way between sprawling groups I fought toward the edge -of the battle. Then I saw the devilish Azad’s scheme, for at a distance -of a hundred yards were two horsemen, a muffled figure between them, -galloping furiously to the southward. Crafty villain! under cover of -the fighting his idea was to escape. - -Free of all obstacles I sped after them, rapidly gaining on their -encumbered progress. It was two to one but what cared I. Seeing -themselves overtaken they reined up while Azad’s bodyguard took -deliberate aim through the sights of his long gun. I could almost feel -its cold muzzle on my brow. But they had reckoned without the power -of the woman they carried. With a convulsive spring she threw herself -about the marksman and his bullet whistled over my head; a second later -he fell pierced by the last ball from my automatic which I flung into -the sand. In a flash I was alongside. - -“Azad,” I shrieked--“your hour has come!” - -His usually calm face was twisted with evil passion, not unmixed with -terror. Without the help of his henchmen the weight of the English -woman had been too much for him and I saw her huddled body slip from -his grasp and fall heavily to the sands. He pulled savagely at his -beast’s mouth with the evident intention of backing and trampling -her to death. But at that second I resorted to an old Moplah trick -which is the pride of our tribe. - -[Illustration: SHEIK TO SHEIK - -“Azad,” I shrieked,--“your hour has come----.”] - -[Illustration: Sheik to Sheik] - -At a distance of ten feet I pointed the muzzle of my gun into the sand -and using it as a vaulting pole described an arc in the air. Even so -I should have been severely if not fatally wounded for the low-lived -creature was alertly awaiting my descent to meet me with an inescapable -blow of his razor edged _simla_.... I say “inescapable” for who can -dodge in the air? But wait.... At the very second when by all the laws -of gravitation I should fall against the sweeping blade, at the very -instant when the wiry desert pirate delivered what he meant should be -my death blow ... I pressed the trigger of my gun and fired it into the -sand. The recoil of these Arab weapons is enormous. For an appreciable -time my flight was not only arrested but reversed. - -Bird-like I leaped lightly clear of the whirring blade only to fall -with a crash on the baffled nomad’s head, enveloping him in my burnous -under the folds of which I dragged him to the ground. - -It was now a Sheik to Sheik contest; in-fighting of the most inward -character. - -Fighting in a burnous is very much like fighting under the bed clothes, -a pastime in which I had often indulged during my school-boy days. -Moreover I was master of numerous grips and holds which are not in -the Arab vocabulary. But Azad was at grips with death and knew it; in -addition I felt sure that he still had his pistol which, if he could -but press it against my side, would be unfortunate. - -His wiry strength surprised me. He constantly slipped from my grasp. It -was like fighting a basket of eels in a clothes-hamper. Hither and yon -we thrashed. Once I got a grip on his Adam’s apple and thought to have -wrenched it from his throat but his teeth closed on my ear lobe and I -loosened my hold. Now I heard the thud of horses’ hoofs, footsteps and -approaching voices. - -“Club him! Club him!” shouted some one. - -But the rescuing party were in a dilemma. They could not tell which of -the struggling forms to club. Resolved not to let go of my enemy, with -my brain reeling and the blood pounding in my temples I decided on a -desperate expedient. - -“Club us both,” I shouted with my last ounce of breath. - -A heavy blow sounded and the figure in my arms relaxed. Before I could -cry “Hold!” a second blow fell. A white light blazed before my eyes and -I knew no more. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -_Mine at Last!_ - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -They told me afterward that I lay unconscious, hovering twixt life -and death, for four days. On the fifth my temperature rose and I was -seized by a delirium in which I babbled of early days, my boyhood in -Derby, travels, dangers, women ... I know not all I said. But paramount -in my thoughts was Lady Sarah whose name I called at intervals. Prior -to coming up with Azad’s men I had not slept for seventy-two hours. I -had ridden scores of miles, been wounded a dozen times and suffered -from the keenest anxiety. The final blow on the head, added for good -measure, had been the death of one less virile. But my will-to-live won -out. - -On the fifth day I slowly opened my eyes and gazed, mystified at the -vision above me. It was Lady Sarah’s face but through my filmy pupils -it loomed vague and indefinite like the harvest moon in a fog. Then my -vision cleared. - -“You?” I questioned. - -She smiled and placed a finger on her lips with the familiar nurse’s -gesture. - -“Sh ... you must not talk.” She wore the conventional nursing -costume in which all women look well. As she turned to busy herself -professionally with a tray of medicine bottles a mounting tide of color -suffused her cheeks spreading to the ears and neck until they were a -rich mahogany. Blessed creature! She too had suffered during her vigil. -At the thought I had an absurd vision of one of Giorgione’s red angels -bending over me. A weak laugh faltered on my lips. She was at my side -in an instant, bottle in hand. - -“Time for meddy ... then go bye-bye.” - -She poured out a moderate portion of something potent and pre-war. I -sank back with a sigh of satisfaction. How good she was to me! and how -gentle!... “Meddy” “Bye-bye” “Good-night, Nurse.” I was asleep. - - * * * * * - -How delightful are convalescent days. The mind is so keen and every -stage of improvement brings such a thrill of adventure from the first -bit of solid food to sitting up, being read to, talking and the bliss -of the first cigarette. Then later came visits from friends, dainties -sent in and the gradual putting-together of the past. Flowers, too--a -vase of purple bugloss-blossoms from Effendi-Bazam. He too had been -struck down and barely rescued just as two Bassikuni were about to -carry out their threat of _laghouat blida_. I wept like a child at his -tenderness. - -Lord Wimpole’s tent had been turned into a sick room while he occupied -mine. I do not think he liked the arrangement but Lady Sarah had taken -these matters into her own hands. Little by little the story was told -me, of how my men had turned the tide of battle and annihilated all -but a handful of Azad’s forces who had fled into the desert. Seeing my -grievous state a messenger was sent to Ab-Domen which resulted in the -consolidation of the two caravans. - -“How fortunate you arrived just when you did!” exclaimed Lady Sarah one -evening, clasping her knees in her long bony hands. “Another second -would have been too late!” - -“Nonsense,” blustered Lord Wimpole pulling his stubby moustache, “we -should ’ave stood ’em off. You can’t break a British Square y’know.” - -“My eye,” said his wife coldly, flicking a cigarette ash in his -direction. “They were all over us and you know it.” - -Wimpole mooned out of the tent while I was telling his lady of my -fortunate application of the “pons asinorum.” - -“What is that?” she queried. “My French is atrocious.” - -“An old geometric theorem; the bridge of asses over which every school -donkey must pass.” - -“And you did!” she enthused. “How clearly it brings home the advantage -of a college education.” - -Thus we passed long hours in tender confidence during which I told -her many things, she listening for the most part, as I recounted my -life from its infancy, with a nursery anecdote here and there, some -droll saying or madcap prank which I played on Miss Stafford, my -first teacher. No detail seemed too slight to interest this wonderful -creature to whom I vowed to bare my whole existence. Step by step I -worked my way through infancy to adolescence, boyish sports, my skill -at mumblety-peg, my first affair with Norah Flaherty who worked in the -melodeon factory.... - -It was at the close of this tender incident that she bent over me late -one evening to tuck me in, her rose-rimmed eyes glowing into mine. -Involuntarily my arm encircled her gaunt framework drawing her down, -close ... close. Thus she knelt by my cot for a long moment before she -rose with an effort at self mastery. - -“I think you can get up tomorrow,” she murmured, and the curtains -swished softly on the night air. - -“What happened to Azad?” I asked one day. - -Whinney, who was visiting me, flicked an ash from his cigarette. - -“Your men claimed him after he came to. They buried him, Moplah style, -you know?” - -“Rather!” - -I could see the wretched creature hands and feet bound, planted up to -his neck in hard-packed sand. The eyes invariably went first, toothsome -morsels for the vultures,--then came the ants and flies. - -“We kept him alive as long as we could,” said my friend, “occasionally -that Circassian girl used to go out and sprinkle salt and sand on his -sore spots.” - -“That will be all for today,” I remarked, for I was still weak. - -It was a matter of ten days before I began to feel my full strength and -resilience returning, days of short walks and long rests in a shaded -_chaise-longue_. Whinney and Swank had laid out an excellent nine-hole -golf course where I was soon able to join them. Golf in the desert is -a simple affair, the course being entirely of sand one needs but two -clubs, a driver and a niblick. It is like playing in a gigantic bunker -and my game soon came back to me. Then there were afternoons of gazelle -and gecko hunting with sloughi-hounds, the only dogs which can stand -the peculiar conditions of the desert for which nature has equipped -them with bushy, protective eye-brows, short beards and curiously -splay-toed feet which give them great speed over soft sand. Another -pastime of our leisure hours was the Arab’s favorite pursuit of hawking. - -No standard Sheik travels without his hawk or hawks, hung in gay -cages from their pack camels and the women folk are constantly busy -knitting hoods for the poor creatures who spend so much of their -time blindfolded. The reason for this constant blindfolding I had -never fully understood until Ab-Domen explained it. The theory is -that a hawk’s eye is only capable of just so much looking and it -would therefore be supremely unwise to let him wear his eyes out in -the contemplation of useless objects such as people and camels. Now, -however, was the hawks’ holiday and the air was specked with the -graceful creatures careering at dizzy heights like motes in a sunbeam. -They are recalled by a whistle which they obey with the marvellous -intelligence of a day laborer at the noon hour, dropping whatever work -they may be engaged in to settle quietly on their masters’ wrists. - -An exception to this statement must be made in the case of a hawk in -pursuit of an _opapa_, a desert fowl closely akin to the Australian -carpenter-bird which it resembles in its hammer-head, saw-bill and -long, nail-like claws. Many a morning in the Cowba district (East -of Sydney) I have been awakened by the building operations of these -creatures whose nests are solidly framed of gum-wood which is later -stuccoed with a mixture of bird-lime and feathers. But I digress.... - -The _opapa_ of which I started to speak is for some reason unknown to -ornithology the deadly enemy of the hawk and once sighted is the object -of a relentless attack. Seated one day in the encampment I witnessed -a grewsome battle between two of these implacable rivals of the air. -The recall had been sounded, but the hawk paid no attention to it. His -one thought was the complete annihilation of his antagonist which he -accomplished by repeated attacks, closing-in, ripping-off tender strips -of flesh and actually devouring the entire carcass save the saw-bill, -bony hammer-head and nails; in other words, the hawk, in mid-air -ate the artisan and dropped only the tools, after which he returned -peaceably to his master. - -But our position in the camp was becoming increasingly difficult. -Our water supply had been thrice replenished from the Tabala station -which was at an inconvenient distance. Moreover the guardian of the -wells began to protest against our frequent calls. “Caravans come and -caravans depart, but you are repeaters,” he said in effect. My strength -now was completely restored; under my folding burnous I could feel the -steel contours of hardening biceps, triceps and forceps. Will-power, -ambition, the old love of adventure were again in the ascendant. - -Now arose a difficulty which was destined to result in vital -consequences. I refer to the division of responsibility between Lord -Wimpole and myself. Here were two caravans each with an acknowledged -leader. During my illness the supreme command had fallen in the -Englishman’s hands. Incompetent though he was he could not bring -himself to relinquish it. Temporary power had gone to the little -lace-maker’s head and the inevitable battle of wills began. The first -open break occurred during a discussion as to future plans. Wimpole -was all for a continuation of the life of ease and luxury which so -well suited him. His absurd suggestion was an immediate removal to -Tabala with an indefinite stay there. My decision was to push on to the -beckoning East according to my original plans. In vain we argued. “Very -well, we split,” said his lordship, his brow like thunder, his lower -lip protruding like a camel’s. - -The thought of leaving Lady Sarah was unbearable. Nevertheless with -a heavy heart I resolved on the sacrifice, ordering Ab-Domen to make -preparations for our departure. But an incident occurred which modified -this laudable design. - -Wimpole, since his re-establishment in his own tent, had reverted to -his old manner of brawling domesticity. Sounds of strife resounded -nightly from their quarters, the grumbling of his heavy voice, rising -to imprecation, the crash of china and an occasional cry of protest -from his unfortunate wife. Nevertheless, as far as I knew, he had not -resorted to open violence. Pained and apprehensive I continued my -preparations. Daily the _doolahs_ trotted to and fro busily loading the -camel-packs and striking all but the necessary tents. The eve of our -separation arrived. - -[Illustration: TWIN BEDOUINS OF THE EAST - -Traprock and Whinney constantly on guard against possible surprise.] - -[Illustration: Twin Bedouins of the East] - -The Wimpoles gave a dinner in their luxurious dining-tent. I sat on -Lady Sarah’s right, her husband being at the other end of the table. -It was a mournful feast. My heart was too full for food but I quaffed -the succession of vintage wines with reckless abandon. Our last evening -together! At the thought my hand stole neath the napery to be met by -that of my loved-one which awaited me as a bird awaits its mate. - -“Up Jenkins!” cried Swank gaily. I crushed him with a look. But my -caution was useless. At his end of the table Lord Wimpole was already -far gone in drink. He was playing a harmonica, his favorite pastime -when thus afflicted. Back of his chair Effendi patiently awaited his -final collapse. His mental attitude was particularly quarrelsome and as -the libations gained their mastery he became more and more provocative -until Lady Wimpole rose with a sigh and moved toward the tent entrance. -There she turned and her lips silently framed the words “Follow me,” a -command I was able to obey almost instantly as my host was engaged in -an interminable story which he had told twice before. - -Stepping beyond the circle of light I peered into the gloom. Lady -Sarah’s figure was dimly visible, a patch of gray against the -blackness. Joining her we strolled well beyond ear-shot. And yet we did -not speak. - -What was in our hearts lay too deep for words. It was the moment of -supreme renunciation. She looked long and searchingly in my eyes and at -last words came. - -“My Sheik!” she murmured, resting her hands on my shoulders. - -I drew her, trembling, to me. - -“Lady Sarah,” I whispered, lifting her heavy fringe of bobbed hair that -she might hear my low heart’s cry, “my Sarah of the Sahara, we have -had our little hour, thee and I. Now, by the law of thy people we must -part. But by the law of my adopted people, the Moplahs, thou art mine, -my desert woman, my sweet sand lark.” - -She drew back affrighted. Though I had spoken before in an exalted -strain I had never so definitely approached the topic of love. Then she -took my hand again. - -“O, El-Dhub,--” she said, “what you say is sweet and true. Thy words -are as the nightingale’s song. My heart and my love are indeed thine, -but see how I am encompassed ... By all the laws of my people I am -bound to my over-lord yonder.... I can not free myself....” - -From the glowing tent burst a wild strain of harmonica music, fierce, -exultant. - -“God pity me!” I cried. “Farewell!” - -Choking with emotion I staggered to the tent. - -“Swank!--Whinney!--we start at once.” - -They tumbled from their places. - -“You are mad! At this hour? Man alive....” - -“Very well.... Call Ab-Domen ... he and I will start ahead with four -camels. I must ride tonight.” - -As they obeyed my order Lady Sarah slipped by me into the tent, her -eyes dark with pain. Ab-Domen sleepily led out a small group of camels -and the necessaries for our advance party. - -“Due East,” I said to Whinney, “leave out Tabala and proceed to the -next station at Hammababa. We will await you there.” - -“Right-o--Goodbye ... and good luck. We ought to get there in three -days.” - -My friends turned in for they needed sleep badly. A few moments later -Ab-Domen and I were ready for departure. Suddenly a piercing scream -rang from the Wimpoles’ tents and Lady Sarah rushed into the night. - -“El-Dhub!” - -“Here,” I answered. - -“O, take me with you. Look ... he has done it again.” - -She held up her arm and I saw the deep teeth-marks of her dog of a -husband. - -“Damn him.... I will kill him ’ere we go.” - -“No, no,” she cried. “I think I have done that.... I struck him ... -with a chafing dish.” - -“Up, then ... mount.” - -She took her place on one of the camels. There was no thought of -hesitation. Forth we fared on the swiftest of my bactrians forth into -the velvet night. Our camels travelled tactfully side by side. So -matched were their gaits that Lady Sarah could rest her head on my -shoulder as we rode. It was not until six hours later, in the dawn, -that I discovered that sometime during the night Ab-Domen, the wily old -devil, had given us the slip. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -_Death in the Desert_ - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -“Do you see anything?” - -“No.” I lowered my binoculars. - -“’Straordinary!” - -Lady Sarah spoke casually but I detected the undertone of anxiety in -her voice. - -We had now been three days in the desert. To put the matter shortly, -we were lost. Gaze as we might there was no sign of the Hammababa -station nor of any other. Ab-Domen Allah’s defection had doubtless -been well-meant. Under more sophisticated conditions he had acted -similarly before; but his absence now was deadly serious. Versed as he -was in the art of star-reading, a member in good standing of the Desert -Trails Club, it would have been simple for him to set us on the right -track. Also, relying on his knowledge I had taken no pains to look -up constellations, distances, or direction. Our progress was a blind -advance, made the more so by our blinding love. - -Ah, Sarah, my desert dish, canst thou forget that joyous pilgrimage -neath the myriad eyes of night, throughout which I ever remained thy -slave, reverent, respectful, devoted? - -Be that as it may, we should have come up with Hammababa long ago but -never so much as a palm frond had we seen. The devil of a camel is -that once off the proper direction he keeps right on in the wrong one -without the slightest deviation. Nothing like instinct ever troubles -them. The desert is sprinkled with the bones of fool beasts that have -pursued this single-track policy into places where there wasn’t a sign -of sustenance and where they have just naturally died. - -This thought did not cheer me any more than the condition of our water -supply. I figured that if we had overshot Hammababa we might possibly -hit the water-hole at Rhat, but this was a long chance which I should -have hated to back with any real money. - -When one is lost in the desert one doesn’t say much about it. It is -not at all like being on the wrong road in a motor where a man’s wife -always knows he is wrong and loudly proclaims it. Lady Sarah was a -trump; she never peeped. We just kept plodding on late at night and -early in the morning, resting during the heat of the day and neither -of us voicing our suspicions. Finally on the morning of the fourth day -I thought it was up to me to say something. - -“Do you know, Lady Sarah,” I began--“I suspect that this sort of thing -isn’t getting us anywhere.” - -“Nowhere that matters apparently,” she said calmly. Then, pointing -skyward. “Have you seen those kites?” - -I _had_ seen them, first one, then two ... then two more ... appearing -for just a second in the sky, then vanishing, and I knew what they -meant. Shaking off a chill of forboding I dismissed the foul creatures -with an intrepid wave of my hand. - -“Our bones were not born to be bleached,” I said cheerily. - -“Here’s hoping,” was the brave reply. - -Thus began the fourth day. It was a day of forced riding. Riding the -lead-camel I urged the beasts to their best gait, keeping a close eye -on my pocket compass. - -“Hew to the East, let the sand fall where it may,” was my thought. Pad -... fell the cushioned feet of our animals, pad ... pad ... pad ... -mile after mile into nothingness. From noon until four o’clock we -rested, then, on--until nearly midnight when we sank exhausted for a -few hours’ sleep. Food and water supply were running low. “Tomorrow,” I -thought, “we _must_ find something!” closing my eyes on the desperate -hope. - -I awoke to a fresh catastrophe. In organizing our flight-caravan -Ab-Domen had included an extra pack-camel, an Asian dromedary, the -meanest type known to man. This made five beasts in all. Due to thirst -and exhaustion they were nervous and irritable. The sound which aroused -me was a loud roar almost human in its savageness. - -The dromedary had attacked my high spirited mount and before I could -shout a word of command or interfere in any way the entire group were -mixed in an inextricable battle-royal. A fight between two camels is -a dangerous thing to approach; five made a storm center which was as -menacing as a buzz-saw. - -Amid a wild bellowing they charged, bumped, bit, kicked, whirled and -fell, lashing, thrashing, smashing ... my heart sank as I heard the -rending crack of bone against bone. After a mad half-hour they lay -compactly locked, exhausted, blood-shot, panting and glaring, hump -locked with hump, teeth bedded in soft flesh, legs protruding at every -angle like a pile of animal jack-straws. - -When I was able to drag them, one by one, apart I knew that the worst -had befallen us. Out of twenty legs, seventeen were broken! Not a -single beast was able to stand. - -“Tremendous, wasn’t it?” said Lady Sarah. - -I nodded. In spite of its import the tragedy could not fail to be -spectacular. - -“Better milk the female,” I said. - -Lady Sarah managed to extract about a gallon from our only cow-camel. -With heavy hearts and heavier loads we began our fateful march across -the wastes--afoot. - -Just how long or how far we walked is not quite clear in my mind. -At times we were unreasonably gay. Day and night became confused. -We struggled on when we were not too exhausted. Snatches of an old -refrain, “The Japanese Sandman,” burst from my lips; then I would sing -the old Indian love lyric “Cold hands I held, behind the Samo-va-ah, -where are you now,--where are-ah you now?” And we would both weep, -watching our tears vanish in the aridity underfoot, “like snow upon the -desert’s dusty face.” - -On an undated day we lay down for what we felt to be our last rest. -We had done our best and it was not enough. In the early dawn Fate -mocked us again. A tractor caravan passed at a distance of half a -mile, part of the regular bus line between Tripoli and Assouan, their -head lights shining dimly in the wan light. Struggling to my feet I -tried to run toward them. Ignominious though it might be to be rescued -by such contraptions I had another’s life to consider. “Jitney!” I -shouted--“Jitney,” but the noise of their motors drowned my voice and, -the effort proving too much, I fell forward, gazing mournfully after -the receding tail-lights, two dim, red sparks that rose and fell and -vanished. - -“What was it?” asked Lady Sarah, half-aroused. - -“Citroens,” I answered. - -“French ... for lemons,” she said with a weak smile, sinking again to -lethargy. - -Later in the day we managed to advance a few miles. I think we crawled -part of the way. All supplies were now exhausted. I was burned like -a cinder; Lady Sarah was a flaming red--she never tanned; she was -peeling, I remember, but still beautiful. Suddenly I sank back and -pointed with trembling finger--“Look! Look!” I cried through cracked -lips. - -Before us not over a mile away, in a low depression of the desert, lay -water! blessed water, fringed with green trees, to which I could see -animals coming to drink, impala, umpahs, gazelles and countless birds. - -“The Rhat-hole,” I shouted, “Courage! dear witch; we shall win through -yet.” - -Yard by yard we made our painful advance. The details grew clearer -until in my fevered imagination I could hear the cool splash of the -pool. And then, with the suddenness of a cinema fade-out the picture -vanished. - -“Mirage,” I gasped. - -There was no answer. Lady Sarah had fainted. - -A hoarse kite-cackle sounded in my ears as I too sank in merciful -oblivion. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -_Antony and Cleopatra_ - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - -“You say you followed the kites?” I asked. - -“Yes, Your Altitude,” said Ab-Domen, “for several days I kept away, -for I thought you might wish ... that is ... the lady ...”; he grinned -maliciously. - -“It was not pre-arranged,” I said coldly. - -“Then I began to see the birds,” he continued. “I was worried. When I -found your smashed camels--by the way you were lucky in one respect, -for the beasts attracted the birds and held them back for a day--then -I was really worried. I knew I should be useless without supplies so -I rode at top speed to the caravan, changed camels for horses and -overtook you--just in time.” - -“Good old Ab-Domen,” said Lady Sarah patting the oriental’s shoulder. - -We were resting at the Rhat-hole which was not so far away as we had -supposed. The mirage we had seen was of the close-range variety and -had we had sufficient strength to keep on we might have reached it for -ourselves. - -Our camp was at some distance from the pool in order not to disturb -the wild life to which it is so necessary a feature. These desert -water-holes differ in character from the South African variety. The -vegetation is less dense and more low-growing and the animals are -mostly limited to those of the locality, jerboa, jackals, whiffle-hens -and so on. - -We did no shooting for it has always seemed to me extremely unsporting -to kill unsuspecting animals while they are satisfying their thirst. It -was sufficiently entertaining to sit quietly in our compound and watch -the amazing variety of visitors to the filthy but refreshing waters. -Being the only source of supply in a large area it was occasionally -visited by creatures whose natural habitat was many miles away. Among -others a lean elephant who had evidently strayed far from his haunts to -the southward. He was one of the lop-eared Sudanese type, almost dying -of thirst. It was interesting to see how in his case necessity became -the mother of invention for, having drunk as much as he could, he -proceeded to fill his trunk against future need, hanging the end over -his ear in order to conserve the precious liquid. - -Here, too, we got our first hint of the distant Nile country toward -which we were aiming. A group of ibis stalked along the edge of the -pool while, keeping very much to himself, I saw a specimen of the rare -Egyptian wart-hog whose snout is spiraled to aid him in piercing the -sand in search of lizard-eggs, his favorite food. - -Our way was now comparatively easy. We were in the region of -Anglo-Egyptian influence where the efficiency of the British Government -has established a chain of oases at distances much nearer than that -provided by nature. Where water does not exist in natural wells it has -been reached by boring or is piped in. Ab-Domen checked off the list -of probable station stops. Wun, Borku, Liffi Ganda--the largest of the -artesian oases,--Bongo, Meshra and so on, straight to the Egyptian -frontier.... - -It seemed unwise to leave Ab-Domen at this juncture for every time I -had done so the results had been unfortunate. As I looked back on my -plight in Azad’s camp and my narrow escape from death in the company of -my bronze beauty I realized that now, if ever, was a time for playing -safe. Lord Wimpole was left behind, a thing of the past, lost, to all -intents and purposes, in the desert. - -“He was carted off to Tabala the morning after you and Lady Sarah -left,” Swank told me. “He hadn’t come-to when they started so I don’t -know how he took her departure.” - -Much I cared! I snapped my fingers. - -Restored to health, nourished with a generous supply of delicious -food, my monumental desert mate was more lovely than ever. The peeling -process was over and she appeared re-born, a creature of red and gold. -How I looked forward to the Nile, with all its romantic associations. - -The river came in sight at last after what seemed interminable days -crossing the low Wady Mahall hills. Late one afternoon I caught its -silver sheen where it wound its way between the fresh green of the rice -fields. - -“Look!” I pointed. “’Tis the Nile, O, my beloved.” - -“My Antony!” ... she scarcely breathed the name. She was really -wonderful in her way of catching the spirit and elevation of the -moment; her early education must have been thorough. - -Our last day’s march was through fields of Egyptian cotton and Lady -Sarah made a remark that startled me. - -“Horace owns slathers of this,” she said. - -I grimaced at the name which showed she was thinking of him, and -quickly drew her attention to a lovely field of sesame and lilies -planted in alternate rows. Here and there a band of native workmen -were weeding the vegetable-ivory-plants in preparation for the annual -inundation. So shallow was the alluvial loam that their rude implements -frequently reached the underlying sand rich with the records of past -centuries, for this entire valley is but the graveyard of earlier -civilizations. Our passing excited mild wonder and one brawny Nubian -tossed me a skull which Whinney said was clearly that of a man of the -bone-age. How petty seemed the ticking of my wrist-watch measured by -the chronology of these mute memorials! - -We intercepted the river in its upper reaches between the third and -fourth cataracts, which are little more than rapids. In the village of -Hannik we rested, part of the caravan continuing to Red Sea ports while -my camels guided by Ab-Domen turned northward along the river bank. -Acting as my advance agent the faithful Turk made splendid arrangements -for river boats between the cataracts and lower down at Assouan I found -a magnificent dahabeah. - -[Illustration: AN EGYPTIAN DEITY - -Bel-Toto, one of the lovely servitors of Lady Sarah on her dahabeah, -the El-Sali.] - -[Illustration: An Egyptian Deity] - -It was the most comfortable craft of its kind that could be devised and -was painted a brilliant emerald green, Lady Sarah’s favorite color. -Ab-Domen had not overlooked her name, El-Sali, in the vernacular, which -adorned the bow. Crew, supplies, all were in readiness. - -In the cabins lay fresh clothes suited to the locality and climate. A -native _fellah_ in immaculate white bounded forth whenever I clapped -my hands while Lady Sarah’s needs were looked after by a dusky Syrian -maid who fawned at her feet or swung her fan until we sent her away on -one pretext or another. My desert queen was a gorgeous picture when she -first mounted the companion-way steps and stood under the green and -white awning. She wore a _kaftan_ or portiere of brilliant blue draped -over her shoulders, its fringe in which were hung small silver bells, -reaching to her knees. This was supplemented by green silk trousers of -ankle length, sandals and a soft scarf. All nails, both toe and finger, -were bright with rouge and the underlids of her eyes were deep blue -with native Kohl. She was an arresting sight. - -Everywhere were jewels or pendant ornaments, bangles for wrist and -ankle, and long jade earrings so that she clinked when she walked like -a tray-full of drinks. I had donned a light weight burnous of two-inch -striped material suitable for a man in the early forties and discarded -my heavy Moplah turban for a _tarbush_. Our servants, overcome by our -beauty, backed down the companion-way crying upon Allah to protect them -from such blighting splendor. - -Of all the days of my life those which succeeded are perhaps the most -beautiful. Can one imagine more exquisite conditions? Alone with the -object of one’s adoration on the wonderful Nile, the most sentimental -and sedimental of rivers. It was a voyage through Paradise, the life of -lovers in lotus-land.... - -Swank and Whinney, in a smaller craft, followed our course. For the -passengers of El-Sali life was an uninterrupted dream. Day followed -bright day in this rainless land while we drifted lazily on our way -watching the panorama of palms and quiet river-life, natives gathering -locusts from which they squeezed the honey, green-and-gold ichneumons -flashing in the sun, shimmering fields of henna and fragrant basil, -fishermen seeking ancient carp and the curious _boyad_ which has -feathers in place of scales, children playing with a _tetrodon_ or -ball-fish which they toss about gaily, whispering groves of mulberry -trees, marshes pink with mallow amid which stood flaming flamingos and -ibis both sacred and profane, water buffalo, okaki, coneys ... there -was no end to the variety and interest. Occasionally we stopped at -native villages and wandered in to the little bazaars inspecting the -curious wares, purchasing here and there a graceful reed basket, an -ornament of native turquoise and silver or a roughly cut emerald from -the mines at Jebel Zabara. - -Ab-Domen had given orders for our entertainment and nightly we were -hailed by dancers and singers from the shore or in boats. These came -aboard, Swank and Whinney joined us and we watched their performances. -Some of the dervishes were remarkable. - -Further down the river we began to pass the tombs and monuments of -the ancient dynasties and here the entertainments became more and -more elaborate for Ab-Domen cleverly utilized the crumbling temples, -gigantic columns and seated figures as a background for the performers. -At the temple of Philae, notably, he put on a superb show with three -principals and a chorus of six Egyptian beauties which caused Swank -and Whinney to tie their dahabeah alongside forthwith. - -Late into the starry night I sat with my loved-one, continuing the -story of my life which had been so often interrupted, filling in the -details of my college career with its mad, glad days and then my plunge -into exploration, the wonderful things I had accomplished, the people -I had met, the honors ... it is not my way to talk about myself but I -felt I should tell all to this wonderful woman. She was such a superb -listener, quiet, mute. - -“Say something,” I murmured, brushing her locks, sweet with jasmine and -asphodel, “speak, my oleander.” - -“I am speechless,” she said. - -I have always loved women of that sort, the simple, quiet ones,--broad -between the eyes,--are they bovine? stupid? I do not know. They listen -to me. - -Thus Lady Sarah lay in her _chaise-longue_, quiet, smiling, listening -to my odyssey. Sometimes her eyes closed and it almost seemed she -slept.... - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -_The Tomb of Dimitrino_ - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - -It is not my way to pass through a country without drawing from it as -much information and interest as possible. All my life I have been -a close student of archeology and here was an opportunity not to be -missed of pursuing certain investigations which had been attempted by -others and which I myself had begun and abandoned when the war called -all able-bodied men to the colors. - -Like all Englishwomen Lady Sarah had a keen interest in investigations -of this sort and heartily seconded the suggestion that I should give a -day or two to the clearing up of some of the dynastic mysteries which -have baffled historians for many years. - -“But I can’t go with you, my dear,” she said. “These pyramids and -sphinxes and things are simply infested with people from home ... it -wouldn’t do, you know ... after I get my divorce, all right, but until -then....” - -How sane she was! - -I left her in the dahabeah, watched over by Ab-Domen who had by this -time safely convoyed his camels to Cairo. - -“For three days only,” I whispered, holding her tightly, “more than -that I could not bear,” and without daring to look back I fled. - -My objective was in the nearby terrain of the Valley of Kings but I -knew better than to search in the actual valley itself which has been -completely mussed by the hundreds of excavators who have sought the -missing chapters of Egyptian history. Here, it is true, they have found -much that is interesting and worth-while. The recent discovery of the -tomb of King Tut-Ankh-Amen was a creditable performance. But I was -after bigger game than that! - -In beginning my quest I was greatly aided by certain papers which I had -purchased many years ago from an old Levantine in Aden. He knew little -of their value or I should never have secured them but vague markings -on the first documents told me that the packet belonged originally in -the library of Alexander the Great. Later they found their way into the -archives of the Bab-el-Mandeb himself. Need I say more? - -I therefore kept to the north of the beaten track of exploration. The -expressions on the faces of numerous excavating parties which we passed -were amusing. They considered me insane to search for buried testimony -in a location to which no reference was made in their data. Such is the -narrowness of many learned men. - -Our group was small consisting of not more than a score of _doolahs_ in -addition to my usual companions Swank and Whinney. Five camels carried -the provisions and tools. The indications contained in my papers was -so precise that I felt that I could verify their statements with very -little delay. Either they were true or false and that could be soon -determined. - -It was necessary to lay a very careful course following the exact -compass-directions of my palimpsest. This done we were soon swallowed -up in the immensity of the desert. It was strange how, like a great -mother, the land enveloped and enfolded us. But now I trudged it with -different feelings for back of me, waiting in the dahabeah, was Sarah, -my tiger-mate, my tawny desert-rose! Our plan was to go immediately -to Paris where she was to join the American divorce colony, for she -wished to be forever freed from her outrageous husband. This being -decided, I urged her to make haste so that the teeth-marks might still -be shown in evidence, for they were rapidly paling. Wimpole!--the cur -... what had become of him? - -[Illustration: ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF ASSOUAN - -Native musician performing on the Balipsa, one of the earliest -Egyptian wind-instruments.] - -[Illustration: On the Outskirts of Assouan] - -Revolving these matters we marched on, stopping at the end of five -hours for luncheon and a siesta. Here the _doolahs_ resorted to a -curious trick for, by wriggling their bodies, they wormed their way -into the sand and completely disappeared save for an occasional toe, -elbow or kneecap which lay, oddly detached, on the burning floor. In -this way they escaped the direct rays of the deadly sun. Three hours -later the march was resumed. - -Not long after I ordered a halt. We had reached a point as near as I -wished to go to the object of my search, for it was a part of my plan -to make the actual discovery alone. Much as I respected the two men who -were with me I was too old a bird to ignore the fact that practically -every great discovery is marred by an attempt to divide the credit. In -matters of this sort it is best to be alone. - -Camp for the night being established I quietly strolled off by -myself. The sun still hung well above the horizon and I estimated -that I had fully two hours of daylight, though I took an electric -flashlight as an extra precaution. The character of the surrounding -country was peculiar in the extreme, consisting of thousands of small -dome-like hills like bee-hives, each so like the other that my sense -of orientation was instantly lost. Not over a half a mile from camp I -looked for our party and realized with a start that I was searching in -exactly the opposite direction from the right one. - -“Careful!” I thought, studying my compass: “this is dangerous country -to travel in.” - -In a few moments the camp had disappeared. Proceeding with the greatest -care and constantly consulting both my papers and my compass I steered -as straight a course as possible between the soft hillocks. An evening -wind was rising and I noticed that its slightest breath was sufficient -to ripple the hill-sides like shaken silk. In a stronger blast the -mounds must actually move. Not without a sense of disquiet I observed -that the landscape back of me had already changed slightly--or did it -only seem so? - -One hour of my precious time had passed. Should I go on--or return? -Hesitating, a fresh detail lured me forward. To the north-west and -dominating the surrounding mounds rose one considerably higher. -According to my documents I should now be at the site of the most -astounding discovery possible in this corner of the world. Resolved to -make a last inspection from this hill I made my way toward it. - -Even as I ascended its eastern side a thrill crept up my spine for I -could see that the ground sloped sharply away to the west which, my -papers said, it should do. And on the top of the knoll I stood aghast. - -Yes! it was true. I had found it. I, Walter Traprock, American, stood -awed, silent and alone, looking down into the Lost Valley of Bulls, the -burial place of Dimitrino, the First of the Pharaohs. - -Let me say here that I do not belittle the importance of Tut-Ankh-Amen, -but may I also point out that he has been widely acclaimed because he -was the _last_ of the Pharaohs? Dimitrino, I repeat, was the _first_. -It is obvious to whom the greater credit must go. Year after year, for -centuries, historians have groped for some allusion, some hint which -should guide them to the spot which lay before me. - -The tomb occupied the center of a small valley in which the purple -dusk already lay heavy. Against my better judgment, chuckling -excitedly, I ploughed down the sloping banks, passed between two -gigantic porphyry bulls and finally stood beside the mausoleum itself. -Though intending to make only a cursory examination one exciting -detail led to another. The smoothly worked granite blocks with their -close joints excited my wonder. Near the top of the dome in a band of -ornamentation I noted a bronze ring artfully worked in the design. -It was comparatively easy to climb the curving sides and reach this -stone. It was large and I had not the faintest idea that it would -move. Imagine my surprise then when it slid slowly under a strong -pull and I gazed down through a square opening into the blackness of -the actual burial chamber. With a thrill of fear I bent forward, head -and shoulders through the aperture and flooded the great room with my -flashlight. Wonder of wonders! What splendors lay below me. - -I had only time to glimpse a dazzling array of gold and brilliant color -when my legs were suddenly lifted up from behind and I was thrust -violently forward through the opening. Twisting as I fell I quickly -flashed my light upward. The great stone was slowly sliding into place -but in the narrowing space the beam of my flash fell on the distorted -features of Horace Wimpole. - -My head suddenly swam with dizziness and I fainted. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -_Buried Alive_ - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - -My revival was sudden and violent. For a second I lay semi-conscious; -then realizing my predicament, every fibre rebelled at the ridiculous -situation. Caught ... caught again, like a rat in my own trap. Blindly -I rushed about in the blackness of the tomb. Underfoot resounded the -crash of fragile furniture, the splintering of priceless relics. My -head struck some sort of musical instrument built on the tambourine -order which fell to the floor with a weird jangling of copper discs. -Then I stumbled over a great urn and lay panting amid the fragments. - -Where was my light? In a sickening panic I groped for it ... thank God! -my hand closed about it almost instantly ... perspiration dripped from -my forehead. I did not press the button of my flash at once. Somewhat -calmed by its possession I brooded bitterly, glad that the darkness -could hide me from myself. Fool! ... _fool_ that I was to have been so -trapped ... to have felt so fatuously secure. Not a thought had I given -to Wimpole during my exquisite “_rêve d’amour_.” He was dismissed ... -waved away like a wraith. But he had materialized. - -How had he done it? - -A score of answers thronged my brain. Disguised, perhaps he had -accompanied me, mingling with my humble _doolahs_ or, more probably, -had followed me, keeping apart, weaving his way, snake-like, through -the hills, watching and waiting to strike the dastard blow. G’r-r-r ... -I ground my teeth in impotent rage. - -But stay ... this was idiotic. Gradually I calmed and for the first -time switched on my light. Playing it on the ceiling I realized that -all trace of the moveable stone was lost in the complicated decoration. -Climbing a wall which curves inward is one of the most difficult -feats in the world, though I have been able to do it in the past. But -now it seemed so futile. Any search of the ceiling would have lacked -direction. Without moving I gazed sombrely about me. - -I was buried alive, there was no getting away from that. Having chewed -this bitter cud for several minutes I resolved to put my spiritual -house in order, so to speak. My first act was to make my will, -something I had frequently proposed and as often postponed. It occurred -to me now that my position was probably unique in drawing up this last -testament after I had been entombed. All that I possessed I left to -Lady Sarah in fee simple or to her heirs or assigns forever, to have -and to hold, from now on until death us do part--the form was strictly -legal and I signed Whinney’s name as witness, per W. E. T. to make all -sure. - -“And now,” I thought, “for my last words.” In vain I tried to evolve -some simple, compact sentence which would epitomize my entire life but -the subject was too large. Finally I compromised on a five-hundred word -obituary outlining the main events of my career. I then recited what -I could remember of the burial service and considered that I had been -decently laid away. - -With these rites performed I could composedly take stock of my -surroundings for it occurred to me that I could put my time to no -better use than by writing a careful inventory of the contents of the -mausoleum. That much at least could remain as my legacy to the culture -of the world. Then for the first time I realized the magnitude of the -discovery in which I had so completely lost myself. - -For the benefit of those interested in archeology I will give a mere -outline of the main features, the principal one of which was, of -course, the basalt sarcophagus of the King himself. Beside this in a -similar receptacle a few sizes smaller lay his favorite Queen, Heck-To. -Ranged about the walls was a dazzling array of royal furniture, boxes, -chairs, beds, chariots, tables, vases and so on. All the latter were -of solid gold heavily encrusted with gems. Many of the vessels were -filled with food but the contents of the wine jars had unfortunately -evaporated so that I could only look forward to dry fare for a brief -period. - -The picture writing on the walls was of immense interest and showed -Dimitrino at his favorite pursuits, hawking, hunting, catching scarabs -and playing Mah Jong which even in his day was an old game. One -intimate close-up portrayed the monarch using a dial system telephone -which the modern world is now re-discovering with so much trouble. -Another section showed him teaching archery to his son who afterwards -became Melachrino I. - -Numerous passages were in verse which, in hieroglyphics, is effected -by rhyming the symbols in idea, a bird with an egg, a bow with an -arrow, a snake with a woman, and so on. A scene very lovely in color, -depicted the Queen’s mother, Eks-Ito, being devoured by vultures, the -King and his son looking on. - -About the sarcophagus stood the tutelar divinities, Psh, Shs, Pst and -Tkt, the big four of their day. The queen’s lid bore an intaglio of -Thothmes indicating that she had a hare-lip. Hundreds of articles I -listed carefully in my note-book, becoming completely absorbed in my -work. - -Then gradually a chill horror numbed my body. _My light was going -out!_ There was no doubt about it. It was fainter than it had been. -The battery was fading. To die, thus, in the dark! ... horrible. My -determination to complete my catalogue drove me to fresh effort. -Having completed the movable objects I made a closer inspection of -the sarcophagus itself. On the top carved in high relief lay a coiled -snake. As I reached my hand toward it, to my amazement, its head raised -and I saw the coils stiffen. Across my brain flashed the thought that -this was the King’s “Ka,” his spiritual familiar and guardian. But no, -that was rot; the creature was alive! - -Subconsciously a ray of hope sprang in my breast. Not realizing just -why, I reached my light toward the serpent. When it had almost touched -him he glided silently over the edge of the stone, dropped with a thud -on the tiled floor and flowed like a black stream to the edge, back of -a delicate table, where he disappeared. - -In a frenzy I hurled the furniture out of the way and cast myself on -the floor playing my light before me. There was the snake’s exit, where -a tile was loosened against the side wall. And if his exit, why not -mine? - -Idiot, not to have thought of it before! The construction of tombs -is peculiar. They have practically no foundations. In this country -with no frosts or moisture it is only necessary to go an inch or two -below the level of the hard-packed sand. Dashing the tile aside I felt -the surface below. It was friable and crumbled easily under my hand. -Scratching the sand deeply with my pen-knife I scraped up the top layer -with a shallow copper bowl. In another moment I was burrowing madly -like an excited mole. - -In an hour I was completely submerged. My flash was thrust in my breast -pocket where I could occasionally play its waning beam on the tunnel -before me. But I soon learned to do my work in the dark, passing the -sand back of me and worming my way forward. Above me I could feel the -masonry of the enclosing wall, first on my head, then my shoulders, -waist ... legs ... I was free of it. - -As I began to turn my tunnel upward the sound of a solid slump caused -me to play the light over my shoulder and look back as well as I could. -A large mass of sand had fallen from the roof of the tunnel. Not being -able to dig with my feet or to turn in the passage any retreat was cut -off. It was do or die now and with desperate energy I wielded my scoop. - -Strange that I did not reach the surface! On, on, I went and still -there was no light ahead. My sense of direction became confused. Was -I going upward or digging my grave deeper and more irrevocably in the -arid earth. My strength, unusual though it is, was giving out and this -dreadful doubt as to my direction served further to sap my energy. -“One hundred more scoops”--I vowed ... still no air ... fifty more ... -twenty-five ... ten ... one ... I broke through. Air, blessed air, cool -and refreshing as water. Panting I lay with only my head above ground. -It was night, and such a night! blowing a gale with the wind heavily -freighted with sand. But amid the stinging drifts I rolled over and -slept the sleep of a child. - -The bright sun woke me and I staggered to my feet shaking the sand from -my garments and staring stupidly before me. My experience came back -slowly like a confused dream. The tomb. O, yes ... the tomb ... but -where was it? I rubbed my eyes. There was no tomb. And then I realized -what had happened. - -During my incarceration the gale had heaped the sand-drifts about my -prison until it was completely covered. No trace or trail indicated its -position. Of my tunnel there was not a vestige and I realized why it -had taken me so long to reach the surface. - -The entire topography had changed. Wily old Dimitrino! To tuck his tomb -away in this shifting, evasive landscape where he was literally here -today and gone tomorrow! - -Thank Heavens my compass could not run down and I still had my records. -At the thought of the return trip memory re-illumined the flame of -anger but, close on its searing glow, burst the effulgence of love. -Faint from hunger but buoyed by my inextinguishable passion I stumbled -through the distorted territory where, verily, as the old Hebrew says, -“the little hills skip like rams.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -_Love Lost_ - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - -Early in the dawn I began my return. The wind had fallen and progress -was not difficult. Once out of the curious hill country which had again -taken the lost Valley of Bulls into its embrace it was a simple matter -to locate my camp which was the only visible object in the open desert. -My companions were overjoyed at my return for, though an overnight -absence on my part was not unusual, they were always anxious until I -put in an appearance. - -But their welcome was submerged in their wonder at my orders for an -immediate return to Assouan. - -“What’s the idea?” questioned Swank, “we’ve just got here, we’ve -accomplished nothing; it’s....” - -I cut him short with a severe glance vouchsafing only the remark “Foul -play is afoot. Make haste.” - -He saw that something serious had happened and obeyed unquestioningly. -The rank and file of my safari were delighted at the prospect of -getting back to the comforts of the more civilized river-life. More -than once it was on my lips to tell my American companions the story -of my entombment with all its possibilities of future riches and fame, -but the thought of Lady Sarah lay too heavily on my heart. This burden -of apprehension I must carry alone. Weighed down with my individual -anguish I plodded silently across the sand, my mind too busy with -pictures of what might have happened to even note the signs of our -progress, the merging of the desert into the fertile fields with -their long lines of irrigation ditches, the flourishing plantations -of capsicum and marrows alive with chattering apteryxes and flocks of -four-horned sheep. - -With a start I realized that we were on the outskirts of Assouan. - -“Come with me,” I said, detaching my fellow countrymen from the -natives. We ran on ahead and soon came in sight of the El-Sali moored -by the river bank. She was ominously quiet. Bursting into the salon -I gazed upon a picture which was the exact counterpart of my most -lurid imagining. The room was a wreck, curtains torn down, vases -broken, rugs twisted, chairs and tables overturned. Ab-Domen lay -unconscious under the ruins of the victrola. A low moaning from the -apartment beyond led us to Lady Sarah’s maid, likewise in the stupor of -exhaustion. - -When at last the faithful dragoman was partially revived he breathed a -harrowing story of assault and abduction. - -“Lord Wimpole came ...” he gasped ... “he had twenty men ... Lady -El-Sali fought like a tigress ... you see?...” he motioned weakly at -the surrounding chaos.... “I, too, did my best....” - -“Where did they go?” - -He shook his head. “Down river ... where to I do not know.” - -There is an excellent highway along the Nile bank from Assouan to the -Delta. In half an hour we were on our way, mounted on the best of our -horses. - -“Sarah!” I screamed in my agony, “it can not be that we have lost each -other so soon!” - -[Illustration: IN THE SHADOW OF THE PYRAMID - -Zaloofa, the slave girl, wearing the costume of the native Awabodas.] - -[Illustration: In the Shadow of the Pyramid] - -My only hope was that Wimpole, solacing himself with the thought that -he had effectually put me _hors de combat_, would loiter on his way. -But this ray was soon extinguished for inquiry at the villages on -our route informed us that the Englishman’s party had gone through by -motor! At the word my heart sank; all thought of overtaking him was out -of the question. Yet, desperately, we kept on. - -It was late at night when the lights of Cairo twinkled in the distance. -Leaving our horses and chartering a powerful car we were soon speeding -towards Alexandria. The first sun’s rays lighted the listless sails -and gleaming hulls of the ships at anchor, battered tramps and giant -liners from overseas, trim yachts, an occasional sombre battleship -and thousands of sturdy fishing craft. Two vessels were my immediate -object, the Wimpole’s Undine and my own Kawa. A long scrutiny from -the rising ground back of the Port failed to disclose them. Parking -our car we lost ourselves in the forest of masts along the harbor’s -edge. It was impossible that Triplett had failed me but locating him -was like finding one’s automobile after a foot-ball game. Standing on -various pier heads I cupped my hands and bellowed “Kawa-a-hoy” until I -was twice threatened with arrest by the local constabulary. Meanwhile -Swank and Whinney were paging my captain in other directions, the -former cruising about in a rented rowboat while the latter conducted -a personal canvass of the water-side drinking-parlors. In one of these -Triplett was eventually discovered. He was amazed at my early arrival. - -“I didn’t look fur ye fur a week,” he protested. - -“Is the Undine in the harbor?” I asked. - -“Wuz, last night ... takin’ on supplies all day; moved out by the -lighthouse at sundown.” - -“Quick, man; let’s get aboard. We must board her.” - -The Kawa lay surrounded by a huddle of small boats the crews of which -objected violently to being shoved aside but we forced our way through -and eventually cleared the end of the pier and stood out toward the -mole, our kicker-motor chugging valiantly. I had fetched my glasses -from below and soon located the Undine. She was nearly two miles -distant and to my consternation showed every indication of being about -to get under weigh. - -“We must make better time,” I urged. “Can’t we crowd on more sail or do -something nautical?” - -“Crowd on nothin’,” said Triplett. “Wind’s dead agin us.” He spat -sourly as was his wont and I knew from the glint of his one useful eye -that what man could do he would do. Foot by foot we crept up on the -slender Undine out of whose buff funnel smoke poured with increasing -volume. We could now see the glint of her brass work and read the name -under her stern. The squeak of the davit-blocks reached us as the tiny -launch was hauled up and swung in-board; then came the clink, clink of -the capstan. It was up-anchor now and no mistake. - -At that moment Swank made one of the greatest blunders of his life -and that is saying a lot. Overcome by excitement he seized a large -megaphone and before I could stop him raised it and howled “Undine -a-hoy!” - -“Fool!” I shouted striking the instrument from his grasp. - -It was the very thing which he should not have done. In quiet we might -have slipped alongside. Now all was activity aboard the yacht. Sailors -ran to and fro, bells rang sharply, the anchor swung dripping over the -bow and a lather of white foam bubbled up from the obedient screws. - -We were not over a hundred yards away. In desperation I seized the -megaphone. “Stop, in the name of the law,” I shouted; it was all I -could think of at the time. - -A harsh laugh was my answer followed by a shriek, the well-known shriek -of my beloved, which tore my heart strings. In the salon I caught a -glimpse of two struggling figures; then, just as other bulky forms -intervened, a bright object flew through the open porthole. At that -moment the Undine’s stern swung toward us and gathering headway she -shrank rapidly to a tiny speck on the distant horizon. - -We hove-to. “Lower the dingy,” I ordered. Alone I rowed toward the -bright object which I had seen fly from the cabin window. If it were -what I hoped ... yes ... a bottle. Within was the briefest sort of -message, merely the word ... “Ritz.” - -Back in my cabin I pondered in bitter perplexity. “Ritz?” It was a call -to follow her ... it was a meeting place ... but which Ritz? There are -so many. - -I am not one to give up easily. Gradually a scheme formed in my mind. -I would establish an inter-Ritz communication system with agents in -all branches. Triplett’s appearance in the doorway interrupted my -ruminations. - -“Where to, sir?” he asked. - -“London,” I replied and, a moment later, felt the Kawa veer toward the -great English city. - -Fate in her inscrutable way was to end my search almost before it had -begun. Eight weeks later I sat in the tea room of the Ritz-Carlton in -London. Opening my paper I scanned the headlines dealing with cable -despatches, racing news and financial exchange until an item, brutal in -its brevity, assaulted my attention as with a hammer stroke. - -“Lady Sarah Wimpole Dead.” - -The room swam about me. After a tremendous effort at self mastery I was -able to read what followed. - -“The death of Lady Sarah Wimpole, nee Alleyne, of Alleyne House and -Wimpole Manor, Nottinghamshire, will come as a shock to her many -friends. Her medical advisors, Dr. Keech and Dr. McGilvray, confess -themselves as much mystified by the nature of the malady which has -proved fatal. In all respects the symptoms were those of hydrophobia, -which is not an admissible diagnosis since Lady Wimpole had but just -recently landed from her yacht, the Undine, upon which she and Lord -Wimpole have been cruising in Eastern waters. It is suspected that the -disease may have been conveyed by a parrot of which the defunct Peeress -was very fond and the bird--very wisely in our opinion--has been -destroyed.” - -[Illustration: SAD MEMORIES - -“The smooth flowing Nile retains her reflection.”] - -[Illustration: Sad Memories] - -How clearly the tragedy stood before my eyes. Wimpole, mad cur that -he was, had had his way! My first impulse was to shoot him down as he -deserved. Second thought said no. Let him live out his wretched life -until un-reason claimed him as she was bound to do. Within a year he -was incarcerated, a hopeless maniac, fighting and biting at his keepers. - -Time has softened the pain of this, my most tragic adventure. Out -of the wreckage of my hopes and dreams the lovely moments rise like -mountains from mist. Sitting alone in my study, brooding over the -romances of my life, none has quite the charm of this, the most -disastrous and incomplete. - -It was my plan--after Lady Sarah’s divorce and our marriage--to return -to the desert where we had great plans for commercial development, the -building of sand-paper mills and hour-glass factories,--but there! -These were but bubbles blown away by the touch of reality. With our few -brief moments of complete joy I must be content. - -That I should return to follow out our plans alone is inconceivable. -All speaks too clearly of her influence who called me back to reign -once more as El-Dhub ak Moplah. The sandy desert is her likeness. The -smooth flowing Nile retains her reflection. The rocky features of the -Sphinx are those of my Sarah of the Sahara. Wullahy! - - - THE END - - - - - _A Selection from the - Catalogue of_ - - G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS - - [Illustration] - - Complete Catalogues sent - on application - - -The Cruise of the Kawa - -By - -Dr. Walter E. Traprock, - -F. R. S. S. E. U. - -[Illustration] - -A delicious literary burlesque--superlatively amusing. Here are found -the _wak-wak_, that horrid super-seamonster; the gallant _fatu-liva_ -birds who lay square eggs; the flowing _hoopa_ bowl, and the sensuous -_nabiscus_ plant; the tantalizing, tatooing, fabulous folk music; the -beautiful, trusting Filbertine women and their quaint marriage customs, -as well as the dread results of the white man’s coming--all described -with a frank freedom, literary charm, and meticulous regard for truth -which is delightful. - -The Cruise of the Kawa stands unique among the literature of modern -exploration. Nothing like it has ever come out of the South Seas. It is -_the_ travel book of years. Strikingly illustrated, too, from special -photographs, it tells pictorially, as well as verbally, the exciting, -amusing, and entertaining story of an exploration in the South Seas. - - G. P. Putnam’s Sons - New York London - - -My Northern Exposure - -_The Kawa_ at the Pole - -By - -Walter E. Traprock - -[Illustration] - -Similar in format to the famous _Cruise of the Kawa_, this new volume -carries the reader on an exciting and riotously funny expedition to the -frozen north. It is an account of the adventures of the redoubtable Dr. -Traprock (and party) who set out to discover the real North Pole--but -undertake their voyage in a most unusual manner. The incidents, -accidents, and final discoveries in this merry burlesque are certain to -afford as much, if, indeed, not more enjoyment than the first _Kawa_ -story. - -21 gorgeous full page illustrations. - - G. P. Putnam’s Sons - New York London - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - - - Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. - - Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - - Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SARAH OF THE SAHARA *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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