"That, sheik, I cannot say," replied Daud, "but I have my own idea of the only plan by which we can succeed. It is that we immediately seek the Jews, and discover from them truly what they have done with the Girdle."
"And after that?" said Faris.
"With spear and sword and with horse," answered Daud, his eyes flashing fiercely, "pursuing to the limits of the earth, and sparing no one, until we have accomplished our end."
"In this matter," said Faris, "we are one. If you agree, let us swear to be loyal to one another so long as we are fighting for the serpent belt, and until our friend the Beg proclaims that he has no further need of our services."
"I agree," said Daud rising, and holding his right hand aloft "By Allah, I swear it!"
"By Allah, I swear it!" repeated Faris.
Great plans were discussed by the two warriors, who apparently intended to be stopped by nothing; and though I counselled moderation and as little bloodshed as possible, I knew that it would be useless to argue with two men of this description when their blood was up. I therefore contented myself with listening to their projects, hoping that before anything desperate occurred I should have an opportunity of interfering and of preventing unnecessary slaughter.
The plan finally decided on, and forthwith set on foot, was, in its initial stage, simple enough. Daud went alone to Kerbela, where, as a mendicant pilgrim from the far interior, he was to display much religious zeal, discover all he could about Mersina and the two other Jews, and remain in the place until he had found out what had become of the precious Girdle.
A week passed without any news, and my patience began to be sorely tried. My hosts did all in their power to make the time pass pleasantly.
Among other things, Faris told me the story of Shahzadi's shoe, and how Raspul the seer had prophesied: "_War and constant fighting there will be, until the coming of the eight-nailed shoe. Wealth untold cometh to the man whose mare shall carry the iron with which Shahzadi was shod._"
At length Daud returned from his reconnaissance. I saw at once that he was a changed man, haggard, and his eyes as if on the look-out for danger. He told us how he had heard of the Girdle from Shustri, a Hindu astrologer of Kerbela. Shustri related that the Baghdad Jew, Mersina, had stolen the Girdle from Kellner and sold it for a large sum to an important sheik bound for Deyr, a long distance up the Euphrates.
CHAPTER XXIII.
DAUD'S ADVENTURES.
Daud confessed to us that he had no very high opinion of the Hindu astrologer. He thought that he was quite capable of lying, if it suited his purpose; and that it was by no means impossible that he was mixed up in the theft of the Golden Girdle. If the latter were the case, the tale of Mersina's flight and subsequent disposal of the stolen property was, of course, an invention, to get Daud well out of the way; and it might be that the astrologer knew that the Girdle was safely deposited somewhere in Kerbela. The Shammar, however, came to the conclusion that, whatever was going on, his line of action was quite clear. He would ride after the sheik who was said to have bought the Girdle, and find out what truth there was in the story. If it proved to be a lie, he would return and tax the astrologer with the telling of it. So, getting his horse at the village, and taking one of the Aeniza with him, he went off in the direction which the sheik's kafila had taken. From information picked up at the khans and villages on his route, he found that it was quite true that the caravan had passed that way a few days previously, but he failed to ascertain anything reliable about Mersina's presence with it.
Each day, trying his horse's powers of endurance to the utmost, he rode immense distances, and after a while heard that he was rapidly gaining on the sheik's party. Another long day's ride, and he probably would attain the object of his journey. Starting early to make his final effort, at mid-day he reached a small village, where, he was told, the great caravan had halted three nights before. The Arab with whom he conversed had a strange tale to tell him, and one which, if Daud had not known the reputation possessed by the Golden Girdle, would have seemed incredible. In the middle of the night, said the villager, the whole camp and the village close by were aroused by piercing shrieks from the women's tents, and soon it became known that the sheik's favourite wife had suddenly started up in her sleep, had rushed in a state of frenzy from the tent, and was flying screaming into the desert. The sheik himself and several horsemen immediately went in pursuit and in the course of the night brought back the unfortunate lady, who had apparently lost her reason. More than that the Arab did not know, for the kafila continued its journey in the morning, and the sheik, at its head, rode by the side of the camel which carried the _haudaj_, or sedan saddle, bearing his wife.
Later in the evening Daud passed another village, and heard further strange stories of the sheik and his wife; how the latter was raving mad, and was under the impression that snakes were devouring her body; how the sheik had attempted in vain to appease her, and how the mulla had declared her to be possessed of a devil. These tales set Daud thinking, and calling to mind the madness that had seized Kellner when he rode away with the Golden Girdle, and the other curious things which he had heard about its mysterious powers, he felt certain that the sheik had given his wife the precious girdle purchased from Mersina. Rapidly forming his plan, he pressed forward, and before nightfall he found himself approaching the encampment of the sheik. He rode straight up to the sheik's tent, and demanded an immediate interview. This was granted; and Daud, assuming an air of importance, proclaimed that he had been despatched by Shustri, the astrologer of Kerbela, to overtake the sheik, and warn him of the evil that the Golden Girdle was capable of producing. He told him what misfortunes had befallen people who had worn the belt, on which there was undoubtedly a curse, and he pointed out that it was Shustri's opinion that Mersina had committed murder and had stolen the Girdle--acts which in all probability would intensify the curse, causing greater misfortunes than ever to fall on its wearer.
The sheik, on hearing this, became as one demented, and acknowledged that he had paid a large sum to Mersina for the Girdle, because his wife had desired to possess it; and that no sooner had she unwrapped it and fastened it round her waist, than she was suddenly taken ill. No one could say what was the cause of her illness, but now it seemed evident, from what Daud had related, that it must have been brought about by the ill-fated Girdle. The sheik, excusing himself, hurried off to his wife's tent, and presently returned with the Golden Girdle itself, which he cast on the floor at Daud's feet. For a moment Daud imagined that the belt lying before him was his to take away, if he had a mind to do so.
He stretched out his hand towards it; but the sheik motioned to him to stop, saying that he had conferred with his mulla, with the result that they had determined that this thing of evil should no longer be permitted to harry the inhabitants of the world. The mulla was now consulting the Koran, and would in due course come and make known in what way it would be possible to drive out the evil spirit.
For some time Daud sat watching the entwined mass of serpents in front of him, longing to snatch up the coveted belt and fly with it. Yet, brave man as he was, he dared not to make the attempt, and shortly before midnight the mulla came in, to declare what the Koran decreed.
Carried on the point of a spear, the evil-working Girdle was to be borne with due ceremony to the Euphrates; plunged three times in its waters; then carried, still aloft on the spear, across the river for a day's ride to the east. Here would be found the dreaded Devil's Well, known to all to be haunted by afreets and evil spirits, and the dwelling-place of countless snakes. Down into the depths of this dry well the accursed Girdle should be cast from the spear-point, and there it would find a resting-place in fitting company, the snakes crawling over their golden brethren, and the afreets and jins playing with them for all time. No man would be found courageous enough to descend into the pit and battle with its inmates. Thus would the world be freed from this great curse.
The sheik agreed that the fate which the mulla had interpreted from the Koran for the Girdle was well devised, and regretting that the Jew from whom he had purchased it had left the kafila and had thus escaped being consigned to the well with his stolen wares, he ordered a three days'
halt to be proclaimed, while he and a party of chosen men proceeded to convey the Girdle to the Devil's Well. At break of day the party left the encampment, one man riding ahead with the gold belt transfixed to his spear. The sheik and his mulla followed, and behind rode an escort of some twenty horsemen. Daud volunteered to accompany the sheik, explaining that doing so would only entail a slight delay in his return to Kerbela, but the sheik requested that he would go straight back to the town and thank the astrologer Shustri for having sent him with such valuable information. Moreover, he presented Daud with a handsome inlaid knife, as a reward for his services. So the Shammar and his Aeniza companion took leave of the sheik, and rode away to the south, at the same time as the others moved eastwards towards the Euphrates.
Daud, crestfallen at what he considered to be his failure, travelled slowly, and, before noon, had covered little ground. He was disgusted with himself at having let slip the opportunity of carrying off the Golden Girdle when it lay at his feet. He argued with himself that it would have been quite feasible to have snatched it up, and, while everyone was in a state of bewilderment, made good his escape into the desert. Now, although he had actually seen it, and had had ample leisure to study the form of each serpent composing it, he had lost it for ever.
He doubted not that what the sheik and his mulla had said was true; that the last resting-place of the golden snakes would be impenetrable to man, and that, therefore, there was no chance now that it would ever come into my possession. He had never seen the place, neither had his Aeniza companion, and it was at the latter's suggestion that he decided, a few hours later, that he would endeavour to find it, and satisfy himself, before returning to Faris, that all hope had gone.
Towards dusk the two travellers reached a small village, close to the Euphrates, where they intended to spend the night, and try to discover something about the haunted well. Their host knew of it by repute, but said that no one would willingly pass within half a day's journey of it, so evil was the locality supposed to be. From the village it was distant rather more than a long day's ride, and when Daud expressed a desire to see for himself what manner of place it was, the Arab reluctantly agreed that, for a certain sum, he would, on the morrow, show his guests the way thither, but would not journey with them beyond mid-day. Early next morning they set out, crossing the Euphrates on inflated skins, with their horses swimming behind them, and then, striking north-east across the plain, rode rapidly for several hours. At noon their guide said that he must return, but explained to them the direction in which they should proceed, mentioning certain distant landmarks which would assist them to find the way, and warning them that no man had ever been known to spend the night near the well and return alive.
Hour after hour the two determined men rode on, picking up the landmarks one by one, and feeling certain of their direction. But the sun was fast sinking, and there were still several landmarks unpassed.
Then darkness coming on, they were forced to abandon further progress until daylight should again open up the country to them. Accustomed to sleep anywhere, a night in the desert was no hardship to them, and, much refreshed, they eagerly pushed on at daybreak. The last part of their ride, they were told, would be in the bed of a wadi; then over a ridge; and then the Devil's Well.
In an hour or so they reached the wadi, and knew that they were nearing their destination. It was now necessary to make certain that the sheik's party had cleared off; so, casting widely round to the westward, they searched for the marks of the horses, and soon found what they sought.
These footprints, they presumed, marked the route taken by the party on going to and returning from the well, so they followed what had become a beaten track, to find themselves, almost at once, on the brink of the dreaded well. It was apparent that the place must at one time have been close to a caravan route, though many years must have elapsed since it contained water. In structure not altogether unlike the wells of the Lady Zobeide which Daud had often visited when roaming to the south of Meshed Ali, it was deeply excavated, and on three sides lined with massive blocks of stone. The fourth side was more open, and seemed to have had a succession of steps leading gently down to the water's edge.
Now, however, the greater part of the masonry had crumbled away; and the steps no longer existed, except that here and there their remains could be occasionally seen. Bushes grew densely in every cleft and on each ledge; so that the precipitous sides of the chasm appeared to be clothed with stunted shrubs.
Daud waxed warm as he described the place, and said that from one point it was possible to look sheer down to the bottom, perhaps a hundred feet; and from that spot, he and his friend, lying at full length, had peered into the depths. There they saw a space of some extent, the centre of which was bare and smooth, as if water at times lay there; while all around were strewn heaps of stones, which had rolled down from the walls, with bushes growing between them. The morning sun, shining through the open end, lighted up the whole well, and as Daud gazed down, he could see clearly all that he desired to see. On the bare ground at the bottom was the Golden Girdle, lying unclasped, in a heap, as it had evidently fallen from the spear on which it had been carried; and the mulla's prophecy was even already being fulfilled, for several great snakes were seen coiling and uncoiling themselves close by. For a long while the two men, fascinated by the weird scene below them, continued to look down; then they arose and walked round the edge of the well, surveying it from every point. That no man would ever recover the Girdle they felt satisfied, and cursing the spot and everything connected with it, they decided to leave it as quickly as possible, and return to bring the news to Faris and myself.
Riding throughout the remainder of that day and the night that followed, next morning they reached the Euphrates, some miles below the village whence they had started for the well. The river was in flood, and with difficulty they swam their horses across; but at length, only the open desert separated them from our encampment. Forgetting the distance that still remained to be traversed, they had neglected to carry sufficient food and water for the journey, and on the third day they found that they had little of either left. They were now aware that, unless they rode unceasingly and swiftly, they must perish of hunger and thirst, but fortunately they were well mounted, and thus escaped the death that had threatened them.
With what excitement we listened to Daud's account of his wanderings can be imagined. We praised him for his pluck, and thanked him for all that he had gone through; but that all our hopes should be thus blighted depressed us deeply. Faris and I talked the matter over for hours in private, and we agreed that until we ourselves had looked into the depths of the well of ill-repute, and had seen that it was impossible to recover the Girdle, we would not rest content. One thing was certain; Daud must guide us to the spot. But he could not undertake such a ride for some days, although, when we spoke to him about it, he was eager to set out at once. Yet we knew that if he broke down, our attempt would prove a failure, and we decided that he should have a week's rest before we put our plans into execution.
As Daud's strength returned his enthusiasm increased. He suggested that we should lower a man into the well at the end of a strong rope, and with a spear-point bent in the form of a hook it would be easy to secure the Girdle without actually touching the bottom and risking the peril of snakes.
In making our preparations the week passed quickly enough, and the world seemed brighter again. We even went so far as to arrange about the future. As soon as the Girdle was ours, we would ride straight to Baghdad, my friends remaining in hiding near Akarkouf, while I rode on in triumph to the city, and afterwards returned with the reward which I had promised to Daud. As to Shahzadi's shoe, I swore to Faris, as his blood-brother, that he should have it as soon as I could obtain it from England.
"Then," said the sheik, smiling, "will all the Aeniza remember the words of Raspul, '_Wealth untold cometh to the man whose mare shall carry the iron with which Shahzadi was shod._'"
"And, brother," said I, "if it please Allah, that man shall be none other than Faris-ibn-Feyzul."
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE DEVIL'S WELL.
Never did fishing party go a-fishing for stranger fish or with stranger gear, than did we five men, who rode forth, in the chill of the desert winter's morning, on the first stage of the journey to the Devil's Well.
At first, it had been proposed that we should go in foray strength, accompanied by some fifty horsemen; but, later, it was thought best to avoid the display which might arouse suspicion, if we should chance to encounter anyone on the way; and, eventually, the party was restricted to Faris, Sedjur, and myself, with Daud and the Aeniza who had previously been his companion.
For three days we followed the route by which Daud had returned from the well; then, turning east, we reached the Euphrates a few miles above Ana. Crossing the river by swimming, we moved north again, and soon hit off Daud's old track, after which all was plain sailing. We had reached the Devil's Well--and no better name could have been bestowed on the awesome spot. Even Faris acknowledged that the sight of the place froze the very marrow in his bones.
We wasted no time, however, in discussing our feelings, but set to work at once to discover a means of reaching the bottom. Daud had not exaggerated matters; to clamber down the scarped sides was beyond the powers of man. There was nothing for it but the rope; so we followed our guide to the point of land from which, as he had told us, the Girdle could be seen. Only one man at a time could lie down and look over into the abyss, and we took it in turn to view our quarry. Faris gazed on it; then Sedjur; and lastly I myself. Sedjur demanded to be lowered forthwith by the rope, but each of us had his own views of the situation, and each hoped to be the one to draw forth the prize.
It was almost noon before we had formed any definite plan of operations, and the sun no longer lighted up the hollow--in fact, it was not easy to see the Girdle lying below, until one's eyes became accustomed to the gloom. Yet we decided, chiefly by my entreaty, to try the grappling iron, and it was ultimately arranged that each man should be allowed three attempts, after the hooks had been lowered down. Faris was to try his luck first; Daud was to follow; then Sedjur, myself, and the Aeniza in succession. When the others had failed, and my turn arrived, I took my place at the rope end, feeling quite confident of success. With two men sitting on my legs, I hung over the edge, and with both hands grasped the rope. Barely a hundred feet separated me from the Girdle. I could see its outline distinctly, and the grappling hooks within a foot of it. Other snakes, besides the golden ones, I could see also--great, grey, loathsome-looking beasts, and one of them, at the moment, was actually crawling over the hooks and the Girdle. Little had I imagined how difficult it would be to move the grappling iron, so heavy was the great length of rope. My first attempt did no more than just turn the iron, and I saw that all my strength would be needed to jerk the hooks towards the Girdle. I drew in my breath, gave a frantic tug at the rope, and succeeded in making the grapple turn bodily over. But it was farther than ever from the desired object; and my third attempt had no better result. I realised that it was hopeless, and, a sadder but a wiser man, I rose from the ground. Neither did the Aeniza, who last of all manipulated the rope, prove himself a more expert fisherman than the rest of us.
"It is useless," said Faris, "to continue thus to play with the matter.
Let us get to business, so that we may have done with this place before nightfall. Come, the sun is fast sinking; bring the rope."
Now arose a difficulty: each of us was eager to be the one to descend, but Faris began to fasten the rope end to his own body. I remonstrated with him, and maintained that the lightest man of the party should be the one to be lowered down. This was, perhaps, selfishness on my part, as I had every reason to believe that I myself weighed less than anyone else. Sedjur willingly agreed to this, and, as the lightest, claimed the right to the rope end, at which I became indignant, and demanded that Faris should decide between us. Under other circumstances the friendly contest between Sedjur and myself would have been intensely amusing.
Neither of us would yield; and at length Faris made us strip and stand before him side by side, so that he might compare the size of our limbs and the amount of flesh on them. Daud also was called in to give an opinion, and in the end the matter was decided in my favour. My heart gave a great bound when I knew that I, with my own hands, was to recover the Golden Girdle, which had given me such an amount of trouble; and, seizing the rope, I soon had it looped and knotted to my liking. I considered myself more or less of an expert at cliff work, since I had spent two nesting seasons with the fowlers at Flamborough Head, and I knew that I had nothing to fear from dizziness.
I determined that, so far as I was concerned, there should be no chance of failure. Securing the rope round my waist with a knot which I was certain could not slip, I took the fathom or so that remained, and, passing it down through my legs, knotted it into the waist rope in the middle of my back. The end I then brought up over my shoulder, and fastened off in the front of the waist rope. Thus, when suspended, my arms and legs would be free, and the rope would not cut me unduly anywhere. My friends, seeing that I was no novice with a rope, willingly listened to the instructions that I proceeded to give them about lowering me down and hauling me up again. Faris was to lie flat on the projecting rock, watching me descend, and directing operations. Near the edge of the point, I drove in a spear as firmly as the rocky ground would permit, and, some little distance behind it, I planted another spear. Passing the rope twice round each upright spear, I directed Daud, Sedjur, and the other man to hold the standing part of the rope in both hands, and pay it out gradually, as Faris should instruct them. Then, when all was ready, I took the spear with the boat-hook head in both hands, and was soon hanging in space.
Down, down, slowly but surely, I commenced to drop. As I descended, the air grew cold and dank; pigeons, startled by my presence, flew out of the fissures in the rocks, and occasionally a great bat made as if to attack me. Owls, also, I could see blinking on the gnarled bushes, and below, whenever I looked down, there were the snakes. It was not a pleasant experience, and for a moment I almost wished that I had been a heavier man than Sedjur. Faris's head was just visible over the edge of the point, and I could see his hands guiding the rope, which passed over a smooth rock close by the side of his head. As far as possible, I kept my eyes fixed on Faris, signing to him at intervals to lower away, and shouting to him cheerily, from time to time, to assure him that all was going satisfactorily. I began to congratulate myself on the success of my undertaking; I looked down to see how much farther I had to go; another twenty feet, and the Girdle would be within reach of my hook. At that moment, the rope suddenly ran out a yard or more with a rush, and then stopped as suddenly with a jerk, causing me to swing backwards and forwards in a most horrible manner. Instinctively I threw out my boat-hook to the cliff-side nearest to me in order to steady myself, and, to my dismay, I found that it had become fixed in a thick bush. I shouted to Faris to hold fast to the rope, but getting no response, glanced upwards. He had disappeared from his look-out post; and a feeling of utter helplessness took possession of me.
I dared not let go my hold on the boat-hook spear, as without it I should be able to do nothing. I was hanging from the rope in mid-air, clasping the centre of the spear-shaft with both hands. Thus I remained for, it may have been, two seconds--not longer, when I gave a sharp pull at the rope to attract the attention of those above. What followed I hardly know. I have a dim recollection of seeing a man come plunging over the edge, mixed up with spears and ropes. I was loose. I clutched the boat-hook in desperation, and felt myself suddenly swing towards the side of the cliff. Then the shaft of the boat-hook dragged through my hands, my body crashed down, and everything became black.