The Treasure of the Tigris.
by A. F. Mockler Ferryman.
CHAPTER I.
INSTRUCTIONS.
First of all, I must explain how it happened that I, Walter Henderson, whom, I have every reason to believe, my masters regarded as a very ordinary kind of boy, should have blossomed within a couple of years of leaving school into a person of some importance. I say this with all modesty, though my enemies will doubtless cast it in my teeth that no modest man would write a book about himself.
On events which prevented my getting a commission in the Army, after nearly having completed my course at Sandhurst, I do not propose to dwell. At the time I considered the whole affair to be an error of judgment, though my father ascribed it to lack of brains and too much cricket. Be all that as it may, the fact remains that before I was twenty, all my military ambition had been nipped in the bud, and I was incarcerated in the back premises of that imposing but dreary-looking old building, the British Museum. My uncle, Professor Ambrose Wentworth, had taken compassion on me, and had appointed me his private secretary, at a nominal salary. It was not at all the sort of life that I had mapped out for myself, as I had fully made up my mind to be a soldier, as most of my ancestors had been; and, as a matter of fact, had it not been for my mother's entreaties, I should have enlisted directly I left Sandhurst.
My uncle's particular line was Babylonian history, and probably no living man knew more about history tablets, cylinder seals, and such like things, than did he. As was, perhaps, only natural in a man whose whole existence was wrapped up in deciphering cuneiform inscriptions and hieroglyphics, he wrote an almost illegible hand, and it was my duty to make fair copies of all his letters and documents--a task which I found not only most uncongenial but also decidedly difficult. However, I did my best, and my uncle was always kind and considerate; but I could see that he was disappointed that he had been unable, at the end of a year, to make me enthusiastic in the matter of his hobby. At last came the day when I really thought that I could stand the life no longer. It was towards the end of November; we had had a fortnight of dreary fogs and drizzling rain, during which time I had worked by artificial light continuously, and as I took my seat at my desk I made up my mind that this day should be my last at the British Museum. Whether my uncle observed my dejection, or whether his archaeological researches had produced in him the faculty of seeing through a brick wall, I cannot say, but when he entered the room in which I was at work, he came up to me and laid his hand gently on my shoulder.
"Walter, my boy," he said, "you don't like this sedentary life, I can see."
"It is the weather, uncle," said I. "I think it has got on my nerves."
"Well," said my uncle, "I have been meaning to speak to you for some time. You have stuck to your uninteresting work for months without a murmur, and you have proved to me that you have plenty of grit. I can now offer you a change. Mr Jenkins and I have been talking matters over, and we want someone to go to Babylon for us. We have come to the end of our arm-chair researches, and we can do nothing more without a man on the spot. If you like to undertake to study hard for six months, we will send you out on a voyage of discovery for us. You will have to make up your mind to real hard work, but I promise you that you will have a thoroughly interesting trip, and will see a good deal of the world. I will tell you plainly what you will have to do. In the first place, you must be able to read cuneiform inscriptions and translate them readily; secondly, you will have to learn a certain amount of Arabic, so as to be able to converse with the natives; and lastly, you will be required to go on an expedition to Babylon by yourself, and follow up the work that Layard and others commenced. You can think it over for twenty-four hours, and let me know whether you will undertake it, or whether we shall have to look out for someone else."
I need, perhaps, hardly say that, as I was only too keen to travel, I accepted the offer, and I began my six months' course of instruction forthwith. It was hard work, as my uncle had foretold, and nearly nine months passed before I was considered fit to start on my voyage of discovery. But, at the end of that time, my study had resulted in making quite an enthusiast of me, and I was most eager to get away to the land which had already given to the world so many historical treasures.
Then arrived the eventful evening when I was to receive my final instructions, and I was closeted with my uncle and Mr Jenkins for several hours, listening to the great scheme that I was intended to attempt to carry through. Up till then I had had no inkling that my trip was to be anything more than an ordinary digging undertaking, in the hope of finding something new; but when I entered my uncle's sanctum, I soon saw that he and his assistant had something important to discuss with me.
"Well, Walter," my uncle began, "the time has come at last; you are off to-morrow, and now we are going to tell you the great secret that is known only to Mr Jenkins and myself. If either of us were young enough to undertake the work, you may be sure that we should not have let you do it. But it wants a young and an energetic man to carry it through, and that is why we have gone to the trouble of training you. What we are going to disclose to you is absolutely in confidence; you must reveal it to no one; for, as you will see, on the keeping of the secret depends the whole success of your expedition."
My uncle now unlocked a safe, from which he took a tin despatch-box.
Then, unfastening a bundle of papers, he began:--
"THE GIRDLE OF SOPHANA, THE GREAT QUEEN. That is what we want you to find. It exists, or it did a few years ago, beyond a doubt. If you can discover it and bring it to England, you will be a made man. If you fail, we shall not blame you. But I will tell you what we know about it.
Mr Jenkins and I have devoted years to the matter, and, from what we have been able to gather from scraps of information, collected from history tablets and other sources, we know that Queen Sophana was possessed of a girdle of solid gold. Exactly what it was like we do not know, though several life-like snakes are said to have been embossed upon it, and it was supposed to have been possessed of certain magic properties. We have not much to go upon, but we will not keep anything from you, and you shall hear how we have put two and two together. In the first place, the ancient representations, on cylinder seals and such like things, of the queen, always show the girdle or belt round her waist; secondly, the old writers, in describing the queen, frequently refer to the magic belt; thirdly, on a fragment of a history tablet we have found clear evidence that, on the death of the queen, her favourite handmaiden dressed her mistress in pure white clothes and carefully fastened on the girdle before the corpse was laid in the coffin of baked clay.
"Then there are several other tablets on which mention is made of the girdle; and we have copies of all these things ready for you to take with you. But we should never have thought of trying to unearth this treasure, had it not been for information of a much more recent date that has come to us. Barely sixty years ago, some members of an Arab tribe ransacking the ruins of Babylon, found, bricked up in a solid wall many feet underground, a substantial tomb; inside the tomb were several coffins, and within one of these, encircling a shrivelled corpse, lay a belt of golden snakes--massive and of great weight. Now comes the difficulty; for, according to the story which the Arabs relate, the finders of the treasure, from the moment that they took possession of it, suffered every species of calamity. But of all this you must read in the manuscripts which we are handing over to you; it is too long a story to go into now, and I need only tell you the end. The golden girdle was eventually buried in the place where it had been found, by the sole survivor of a family of the Shammar tribe, in whose possession it had been for some years; and, in order that no one should notice that the ground had recently been turned over, the man obliterated all trace of his work by setting fire to the scrub jungle far and wide. Lastly, we have the climax; the Arab committed suicide on the bank of the Euphrates, by falling on the point of his broken spear.
"What you have to do is to endeavour to find out the spot where the man buried the girdle; dig it up, and bring it home. Mr Jenkins and I have written down our views as to how we think this can best be done; but you must consider what we have written as mere suggestions, and you must be guided by circumstances. We do not pretend to be anything more than students and theorists; and, unhappily, such men as Layard and Rawlinson, who could have helped us, have long since passed away. In reading through your papers, you will, of course, come across a deal of Eastern superstition; but I think that you are matter-of-fact enough to pay no attention to the supposed magical properties of the girdle, or any nonsense of that kind."
The remainder of the conversation it is unnecessary to give. I received lengthy instructions as to the voyage, as to secrecy, and as to more commonplace matters of business--how I was to draw money for my expenses, and so forth. No detail had been forgotten by my uncle and his assistant, who, I discovered, were staking their reputations on the success of my quest.
I was handed a despatch-box containing, as I was told, all papers bearing on the object of my journey; and then, like many another, I, Walter Henderson, buoyed up with hope and puffed up with pride, left the Museum under the impression that I was fairly on the road to fame.
CHAPTER II.
ACROSS MESOPOTAMIA.
About my voyage out I shall say little--for it was much like any ordinary voyage to the East--and of the passengers one only need be mentioned. That one joined the steamer at Marseilles, and became my cabin companion. He was a German, named Kellner, an amusing and pleasant individual, who talked English perfectly, and who, in spite of the fact that he seldom lined up for his morning bath, was tolerably clean. For some considerable time I could not make out what his business was, but at last I discovered that he was a "traveller in glass and china," and was going to Karachi. He interested me a good deal, as he appeared to be thoroughly well educated, and able to discuss almost any topic.
At Karachi I had to remain two days, waiting for the Persian Gulf steamer, and when I embarked again I found, to my astonishment and no little joy, that the only other passenger on board was my friend Kellner. He explained his unexpected reappearance by saying that he had had a telegram from his firm, telling him to go on up the Gulf, as there was a good opening for trade at Bushire and Baghdad. I was delighted at having his companionship, and during the next week our friendship increased considerably, so much so, that when we put in at Bushire, I persuaded him to come on with me to Baghdad, and first do his business there, taking Bushire on his way back. As was only natural, I had talked over my plans with him freely, though I had never divulged the secret of the Girdle, merely telling him that I was going to excavate at Babylon for the British Museum. He was politely interested in all I had to say, but he was not enthusiastic, giving it as his opinion that it would be much more practical to induce the people to take to European goods and forget all about their past history.
At last we got up to Bussorah, went on board the river steamer, and after four or five days on the Tigris, came alongside the wharf at Baghdad. I was duly accredited to the British consul-general, and was met by a kawas, who removed me, bag and baggage, to the Residency at once. Kellner went off with an Armenian gentleman, who, he told me, was agent for the firm for which he was travelling, and we parted with many expressions of regret that our long voyage was at an end.
The Consul-General had, I found, received a despatch from the Foreign Office about me, instructing him to assist me in every possible way, and he was kindness itself. I soon decided that there could be no possible harm in my telling him the object of my journey; in fact, I came to the conclusion that it was absolutely necessary. He said that I would have a most exciting hunt, and that he himself would have liked to have accompanied me, but unfortunately he could not leave Baghdad for some time. The Residency surgeon, who had only been in the country about eighteen months, wanted to visit Babylon, and it was soon settled that he should go with me--an arrangement that pleased me immensely, as George Edwards was a man of the world, with a delightful personality. It took a few days to get things in order: the _firman_ from the Turkish Government examined and signed by the governor; servants and horses engaged, and an escort of mounted zaptiehs provided.
At length everything was ready, and, the evening before our departure, I overhauled all the papers in my despatch-box, in order to refresh my memory. I had studied them thoroughly on the voyage out, and knew their contents almost by heart. I had even gone to the length of making a _precis_ of everything in a note-book. I thought it advisable, however, to have a final look through the papers, as I did not wish to encumber myself with the heavy despatch-box, which I had arranged to leave with the Consul-General. On opening the box I found, to my surprise, all the papers in a state of confusion--confusion which could not have arisen from the box having been turned upside down, because I always kept the papers, which were docketed and tied up in order, in their proper places, by filling up the box with two thick books. The books I now found nearly at the bottom of the box, and the bundles of papers were all untied and thoroughly mixed up. Someone had tampered with the box; there was not a doubt of it. I hastily checked off the papers with the inventory in my note-book, and, to my dismay, discovered that one was missing. I went over everything again--the missing document contained a carefully-drawn plan of the ruins of Babylon, with instructions as to the best method of attempting to locate the burial-place of the Girdle.
It was, to my mind, the most important paper in the box; but its loss was not irreparable, as I had fortunately made copious notes from it, and possessed a duplicate plan. Nevertheless, it was most annoying to find that someone had been turning over my papers, and I mentioned the matter to my host at dinner that night.
"What sort of lock have you got on the box?" he asked.
"A Brahma," I replied, "and the key is on my watch-chain."
"Have you ever left your watch lying about?"
"Never; I have always been most particular about it."
Then I remembered that the day I went on shore at Muskat, I had left my watch in my cabin. I remembered the fact, because when I visited Jelali Fort, the governor showed me his watch, and I put my hand in my pocket to take out mine, wishing to explain the advantages of a repeater, but discovered that I had left it behind.
"Haven't you opened the box since then?" inquired the Consul-General.
"No, I don't think I have looked at it since I left Karachi."
"Well, probably the inquisitive steward went through your belongings while you were on shore at Muskat, in hopes of finding a stray bank-note, and I expect in his hurry he omitted to put all the papers back."
So we forgot all about the incident, and the following morning Edwards and I, with our cavalcade of pack-horses, and our soldierly-looking escort, left the Residency, and riding down the dirty, narrow lane to the bazaar, crossed the quaint old bridge of boats and got away into the desert beyond. As we looked back we saw the Consul-General in a _kufa_ in mid-stream waving a last farewell to us, and then we put our little Arab horses into a canter, and soon settled down for the ride to the khan (or caravanserai) of Mahmoudieh. It was late when we reached the solid gate of the khan, and it was closed for the night, but we managed to find accommodation in the little coffee shanty just outside.
A couple of Bedouin chiefs were in possession of the only room, so the verandah was handed over to us, and, the night being warm, it was far pleasanter than being inside, though the corporal of our escort did not at all like the arrangement, and tried to persuade us that it was most unsafe to sleep as it were in the open, in a country which was known to be swarming with robbers and cutthroats. Being Englishmen, we laughed at the corporal's fears, and after supper and a smoke we turned in on the frail wicker-work, crate-like beds that had been provided for us, taking the precaution, however, to have our revolvers handy, and to put everything of value either under the beds or under our bodies. How long we had slept I cannot say; I had been dreaming hard, and I had dreamt that I had found the Golden Girdle--I held it in my hand and gazed at it in wonder--I found the clasp--with great difficulty I unfastened it--I put it round my waist--I felt for the clasp to fasten it--nothing would induce it to close. I pulled with all my might--the Girdle was too small for my waist. I seized both ends in my hands, held my breath, and pulled again. My waist was growing smaller and smaller--my body seemed to be breaking in half. I gave a wild yell, and the clasp snapped with a report like that of a pistol shot. And it was indeed a pistol shot.
As I awoke with a start, I found that the whole place was in a wild state of commotion; the zaptiehs were all around us with lanterns, and Edwards was standing by the side of his bed, with revolver in hand.
"What on earth is the matter?" I asked.
"Had a shot at a blackguard trying to loot our kit, but failed to score, I am afraid," was the reply.
Then Edwards told us all about it; how he had been aroused by my restlessness, how he saw, in the moonlight, two men kneeling close to my bed, and how he quietly took his revolver from under his pillow, and sprang up, only, however, in time to get a flying shot at the men as they made off. Their horses were just outside the verandah, and the thieves were on them and away before he could get another shot in. Our troopers wanted to go in pursuit, but it would have been perfectly useless their going out into the desert, as they had not the remotest idea which road to follow; so we contented ourselves with the examination of our belongings, to see what we had lost. My heart absolutely stopped beating when I discovered that my money-belt had gone from my waist. It was a chamois-leather belt that I had had specially made in England, with neat little pockets all round it, in which I carried the whole of my money--about 50 in sovereigns, and a certain number of silver kerans and rupees.
We were not long in finding out who the thieves were, as the owner of the house came running out to tell us that the two Bedouin chiefs had disappeared without paying for their supper or lodgings. Then I remembered that one of them had passed through the verandah to the inner room while I was fastening the belt over my sleeping-suit, and he must have noticed what I was doing, and guessed that the belt was worth having. My dream all came back to me, and of course my long struggle with the Golden Girdle was probably caused by the Bedouins taking off my belt; but I cannot imagine how they got it off without awakening me. It was gone; there was no doubt about that; and, turning to the coffee-house man, I demanded what he knew of his two runaway guests.
"Lord!" he replied, "I never set eyes on them before this night. They arrived after the gates of the khan were shut, and, saying that they had ridden from the Euphrates, they begged a night's lodging before going on to Baghdad. What manner of men they were I knew not. I swear it."
I believed him, for he was a Jew, and therefore not likely to give board and lodging to two strangers unless he thought that they were respectable and likely to pay their bill. Still, I was not quite certain that the old gentleman was not a confederate of the Bedouins, so I called the corporal and told him that I thought he had better take the owner of the place into Baghdad as a prisoner, and report what had happened. The consternation of the Jew when he heard the order is indescribable. He grovelled on the ground at my feet; flung the dust over his head, and swore to me that he was innocent of participating in any plot. To be sent in to the Turkish governor of Baghdad would mean his ruin. He would not be heard. He was a Jew, and there was no justice for Jews. He begged and implored me to have mercy and to believe his word. As a matter of fact, I had not the slightest intention of losing the services of our escort by sending them back to Baghdad, and I was quite confident that the Jew knew nothing of the robbery. The loss of the money, however, was rather a serious thing, though, fortunately, Edwards was carrying enough to supply our probable wants for some time; and before making a start I sent a letter to the Consul-General, telling him what had occurred, and asking him to send me some more money to Babylon. As can be imagined, we were not too well pleased with the result of our first night in Mesopotamia, and for the next night or two we took the precaution to keep a sentry on duty while we slept.
Getting away as early as possible in the morning, we rode hard all day, and, after passing Khan Haswa and Khan Mahawill, at sunset we crossed the remains of the ancient Parthian earthworks, and entered the ruins of the Great City, taking up our quarters at dusk on a roof-top of the little modern village of Babil, lying close by the Euphrates. Every house in the village was built of bricks dug out of the ruins of famous Babylon; on every brick was the superscription of Nebuchadnezzar; and it was with almost sacrilegious feelings that we lay down to rest among such romantic and old-world surroundings.