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Of what happened after that I know nothing. Neither can I say for certain, even now, whether I lay there unconscious for only a few hours, or for more than twenty-four. On opening my eyes at last, I found that it was night, and for some time I could not understand where I was. Then the whole hideous truth dawned on me, and I recalled what I had last seen--the loose rope, the spears, and the falling man. I was, then, down in the well; and I shuddered as I remembered the snakes that I had seen at the bottom. I was afraid to move, but feeling carefully with my hands, I came to the conclusion that I was lying on a ledge, and had not fallen the whole distance to the bottom. Still, the situation was appalling, for unless my friends found some means to rescue me, I saw no possibility of escape. Exhausted, yet fearing to fall asleep, I lay, and prayed for daylight, not knowing whether the night had just begun, or whether it was drawing to a close. I called loudly to Faris, to Sedjur, and to Daud; but each time there came back only the echo of my own voice, mingled with the shrill screams of countless owls. That the place was haunted did not greatly trouble me, for I argued with myself that all the afreets and jins in spirit-land could do no more than kill me, which, perhaps, would be the best thing that could happen.

Thus I remained motionless, hoping for dawn, and thinking regretfully over the events of my short life. It seemed pitiful to think that I should have been so near the attainment of all my hopes, and should suddenly have lost everything. Then I tried to find a reason for what had occurred, and I became convinced that it was the result of my own folly, that the rope had kinked up, that Faris had left his spot in order to free it, and that my foolish jerk had pulled him off his feet and hurled him into the depths of the well. His dead body, I thought, must be lying somewhere near me; and I shuddered at the knowledge that I had caused the death of the brave sheik, simply and solely because I had been so obstinately determined to obtain the Golden Girdle. As many another man had done before me, I cursed the thing, and remembered, with bitterness, how Faris had warned me from the first that no good would ever come from it.

In the course of time the sky began to show a faint glimmer of light, and I knew that day was breaking. I could make out the shapes of the rocks and the bushes, and I soon saw how everything lay. As I had imagined, I was lying on a narrow ledge, on to which I must have been cast, by the swing of the spear-shaft, as the rope gave way. I looked above me, and there I saw the spear itself, with its boat-hook head fixed in a dense bush, and the end of the shaft not two feet above my face. When I sat up, I could almost reach it with my hands. I raised myself carefully, grasped the spear, and endeavoured to disentangle its hooked head. It resisted all my efforts for some time, but eventually a small branch broke off, and the boat-hook was loose.

My next thought was to look for the sheik's body, and, craning over the side of the ledge, I glanced down at the bottom of the well. The sun had now risen, and was shining brightly on the wild scene. Not fifteen feet beneath me glittered the Golden Girdle, and the sight of it caused me to tremble violently. Close by it were one or two snakes, basking in the morning sun. I hastily scanned the ledge whereon I was kneeling, to make certain that other snakes were not there also. I could see none, and I gave a sigh of relief. Again I sought the body of Faris, and presently my eyes fell on a shapeless mass of clothing, lying among the debris of rocks on the opposite side of the well. In my agony, my first impulse was to fling myself on to the rocks below, and so end my miserable existence. But I restrained myself, and involuntarily turned my eyes in the direction of the gruesome corpse. A ray of hope suddenly burst in upon me. The clothes were not those worn by Faris, nor by Sedjur, nor by either of my other friends; they were not the clothes of a Bedouin, but of an Arab townsman. Who or what he was I could not imagine.

Half dazed, I sat down and wondered what it all meant. Faris and the others were alive after all; they would shortly come to my rescue; they had probably gone off to obtain another rope. I felt happier. I still lived, and I was certain that Faris, my blood-brother, was not the man to leave me to die. Then a horrible fear came over me as I thought that, perhaps, the sheik had imagined that I had been killed by the fall.

Possibly, while I was unconscious, he had called to me, and, receiving no reply, had given me up as dead. If he thought me to be dead, then he would certainly leave the Girdle at rest. These thoughts sent a thrill of horror through me, but at the same time they impelled me to cast about for a means of escape. I roused myself. I would not sit where I was and await death. I would make a fight for life.

The resolution made, I became calm and collected--much to my own astonishment. I looked around me. The rope was still secured to my waist, the bulk of it lying at the bottom of the well. I hauled it up and coiled it by my side on the ledge. With the rope and my long boat-hook, I should be able to manage something--at least I hoped so.

With the aid of these two things, I could surely work my way upwards from rock to rock, and from bush to bush. I could not endure another night in this Inferno, and I formed my plans rapidly. I raised the boat-hook, and with it grappled the bush above me. I could see that there was another ledge there, and to reach it meant ten feet nearer freedom; but I found that swarming up a smooth bamboo was more than I could manage; so, drawing down the boat-hook, and poising the loose end of the rope on its top, I raised it again, and, after several vain attempts, succeeded in passing the rope round the stem of the bush.

Then, inch by inch, I jerked the rope forward until the end returned to my hand, when, knotting it securely, and fixing the head of the boat-hook in the bush, I clambered up the double rope, to reach the narrow ledge in safety. I drew up the boat-hook and the rope, and now that I had accomplished the first step, I no longer despaired.

Looking down, while resting after my exertion, I caught sight of the fateful Girdle. It had a dreadful fascination for me. Should I leave it there? Could I possibly obtain it? I shook with excitement at the very idea; and I decided that I would drop down again to my former position on the lower ledge, and see if I could in any way get nearer to the bottom of the well. I hung the boat-hook in the bush, tied the rope to the thickest bough, and slipped down. The situation I found was not by any means hopeless; in fact, to reach a spot overhanging the Girdle, and within spear's length of it, seemed to be perfectly simple. About eight feet below me was a projecting rock, quite large enough to stand on, and from it, I estimated, I could easily touch the golden serpents with my hook.

I determined now to run no risk of losing either of the two things on which my life depended. The rope, still looped round the bush above me, I slackened out sufficiently to enable me to reach the rock below, and drawing the long end through the loop that encircled my waist, I made it fast, coiling the remainder round my body, and securing the end to the shaft of the boat-hook. Thus equipped, I descended cautiously, and, in less than a minute, was standing on the rock. Pulling at the portion of the rope to which the boat-hook was fastened, I dragged the latter off the ledge, and soon had it in my hands. My estimate proved correct; the head of the boat-hook could touch the ground a foot or two over and beyond the Golden Girdle.

As the iron hooks scraped on the ground, the live snakes hissed and wriggled away among the fallen stones. Skilfully, I gauged the centre of the belt, and passing the boat-hook beneath it, gently raised my hands.

But the belt slipped off, and I had to start afresh. The same thing occurred time after time, until at length I balanced it exactly, and slowly and steadily drew it up. As it came nearer and nearer, my knees shook beneath me, and every moment I expected to see it slither to the ground. Another foot and it would be safe. I thrust out one hand and grasped it. In my frantic joy I shouted again and again. I defied the whole host of jins and afreets; I cared not for Shaitan himself. I had won the day. The Golden Girdle was mine!

CHAPTER XXV.

FOR DEAR LIFE.

I drew out my knife, cut off several feet from the rope end, and twisting it round and round the Girdle, tied it with strong knots beneath my garments. Joyously, I climbed to the ledge above me, and then again to the second ledge. There I rested, and studied the cliff above me. It was disappointing; for it rose up sheer for almost twenty feet, and no foothold could I see anywhere. I crept carefully round a slightly projecting rock, and found that a narrow cleft, with perpendicular sides, opened back into the cliff. It seemed as if an earthquake or some subsidence had rent the rocks asunder from the top of the well to the bottom. Down below me, the fissure descended full thirty feet; upwards, perhaps for twice that height, the walls towered to what I imagined was the edge of the well.

This was my only chance. I could discover no other possible way of escape from the shelf on which I stood. I wondered if there could be snakes in such a place, but so far I had seen none except at the very bottom. So I dismissed the thought, and began my preparations.

I knew that chimney climbing was a special branch of mountaineering. I had seen it done, but I myself had never attempted anything of the kind.

Yet, it was no time for hesitating, and now that I had the Girdle round my waist, I felt nervously anxious to get away. Taking off my sandals and tying them round my neck I unwound the loose coils of rope from my body, tied the end to the boat-hook head, and placed the latter, together with the coiled rope, on the rock at the mouth of the fissure.

I might want my trusty boat-hook again, so I decided to keep it secured to one end of the rope, the other end of which was attached to my body.

It was a simple matter to get athwart the chimney walls, which were here no more than two feet apart, with rough portions of rock projecting a few inches. My back was flat against one wall, my feet against the other, and once I found myself in that position, I did not stop to think. Raising my feet a few inches, and pressing hard with my back and hands, I found my body gradually ascending, with far less difficulty than I had expected. It was, however, laborious work, and at times I despaired of being able to reach the top. The long rope, also, hanging loosely between my legs caused me a good deal of annoyance, as I was ever in doubt as to whether it would run out freely; though I consoled myself with the thought that, if the worst came to the worst, I could cast it off from my body.

Hour after hour I continued to work my way upwards. My feet, hands, and back were stiff and sore with the constant strain and rubbing; but as I looked down, I realised how magnificently I had done. I felt that I had become a mere machine--up with the feet, up with the back, and another six inches nearer the world. I forgot hunger and thirst, and I thought only of the streak of blue sky that I could see through the top of my prison chamber. I was desperate, I own, but my heart never failed me; and, as I gained confidence in the security of my wedged-in position, I was able, when I became exhausted, to rest occasionally.

At last, I looked up and found that I was nearing the top. Another twelve or fifteen feet, and I should be free. But, alas, I saw that the cleft was widening, and at the top was two or three yards across. Even now, it had become more than three feet wide, and every inch would increase my difficulties. I struggled on a little higher. With the whole of my back flat against one wall and the soles of my feet against the other, my knees were no higher than my waist. I could go on slowly as long as my knees had any bend in them; after that I should be powerless.

I stopped, and gazed up again. How near I was to the edge! Six feet--perhaps not as much. Yet, a step higher, and the chimney would be too wide for my legs to span. An old and straggling bush grew on the edge, with branches extended mockingly above me. Could I but reach that bush, I should be safe. But it was well-nigh impossible. I looked down into the depths of the fissure, and I thought of what was before me; how my legs would soon give way, and how my body would bound from side to side, until the final crash finished everything. Then my eyes followed the long, trailing rope, and rested on the tiny boat-hook, far below. I had forgotten its very existence, but the sight of it gave me fresh hope.

Pressing with all my strength with feet and back, I began to haul away at the rope. Yard after yard came up, and then I felt a check. I knew that I had taken in all the slack, and had come to the boat-hook. I wondered whether its weight would be too much for me. Gradually and carefully I pulled at it; I could hear it grating over the rock; one pull more and it was free, and swinging against the sides of the chimney. Its weight was little, and hand over hand I gathered in the rope, allowing it to fall down again to one side, until, before very long, the head of the boat-hook struck my knuckles. I passed the shaft upwards between my legs; in trepidation I watched the hook approach the bush, and when I saw that the bamboo was more than long enough, I breathed more freely. I was getting horribly nervous and excited, and I nearly lost my footing in my eagerness to grasp the bush with the hook.

I took a pull at myself, and the next moment the boat-hook, with the rope attached to it, was round the solid stem of the bush.

But I was not yet free. I knew that I could not climb up the bamboo, and I did not feel equal to climbing up the rope. Before attempting anything, however, I determined to make myself as safe as possible, so, taking up a portion of the rope, I knotted it firmly into the loop round my waist, and encircled the spear-shaft with my arm. I now considered that I was quite secure; a taut rope stretched from my waist to the hook fastened in the bush, and as long as I held the shaft, so as to prevent the chance of its flying upwards when my weight came on the rope, I felt that I could not come to much harm. Even if my exhausted legs gave way, I should still hang from the bush, but I had no intention of relying on this, unless forced to do so. I sat there and rested, easing first one leg and then the other; I wondered whether the bush would be strong enough to bear the strain that I should presently put on it; and I nerved myself for my final effort.

Raising my hands as high as possible above my head, I grasped the rope, and, still keeping the long bamboo close to my right hip and between it and my right armpit, I hauled myself upwards. Had the cleft remained the same width all the way to the top, my ascent would have been easy; but when I was within a yard of the bush, it widened suddenly, and before I knew what had happened, my feet had lost their hold, and I was hanging by my hands to the rope. Desperation seized me, and I fancy that the roughness of the rocks helped me; for, with a frantic effort, I pulled myself up the rope, assisted by my toes, which seemed to obtain a cat-like hold on the steep cleft-side. I put out one hand and grasped the thick roots of the bush; I let go the rope, and with the other hand snatched at the nearest branch. A second later, I was lying flat on my back in the open desert, a yard or more from the edge of the well.

There I lay, worn out and utterly exhausted, but so fearful was I of falling over the side, that before I collapsed, I had sufficient strength left to cast off the rope from my body, and roll myself away to some distance. Then, I suppose, I must have fainted.

The sun was still well up in the heavens when I again opened my eyes.

Instinctively, I felt my waist for the Golden Girdle. It was there. I sat up, and looked around; but I could see nothing except desert, and the few bushes near the well mouth. I crawled towards the spot where I had last seen my friends, and there I was astonished to find all our saddle-bags, as we had thrown them from our horses. But the horses had gone.

I soon had my mouth to a water-skin, drinking as I had never drunk before; and when I had satisfied my thirst, I turned to the saddle-bags for food. There was plenty and to spare, and I ate heartily. Moreover, I found a pipe and tobacco, and I could have hugged myself with delight.

This was indeed a stroke of luck, and I sat and smoked, and thought of all that had occurred. I was blissfully happy, and now, for the first time, I raised my cloak to look at the prize which I had secured for myself. I untied and untwisted the rope, and took the Golden Girdle in my hands. It was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen; but, as I gazed on it in rapture, I remembered its evil reputation. A sickly fear came over me. Should I also go mad from having worn it? Perhaps I was already mad. Perhaps, in my madness, I had leaped into the well, and my companions had fled, in terror, from the spot. Perhaps this was no Golden Girdle after all, but merely a piece of rope. People who are mad, I said to myself, have strange hallucinations. I feared to look long at my treasure; so I rolled the rope about it, and again fastened it round my waist.

I had not yet got as far as thinking of the future. I had gained possession of Queen Sophana's Girdle, and that was my sole thought.

Still, I knew that sooner or later I should have to decide what I should do next, for, whether I were mad or sane, I had no intention of spending another night in the neighbourhood of the Devil's Well. I could not understand what had happened to Faris and the others, and I could not account for the presence of the stranger's corpse, which I had seen in the well. But, when I stood up and looked about me, I became aware of the fact that, since I had last been there, the ground was much trodden by horses' hoofs. There were the marks of many more horses than our five, and it suddenly flashed across me that my friends had been attacked by a strong party of horsemen, while I was descending into the well, and that they had been forced to take to their horses and get away. It must have been a sudden affair, otherwise Faris would not have left his saddle-bags behind; and the pursuit must have been a swift and long one, since the victors had not returned to loot the saddle-bags. I failed to understand it, and I gave up thinking about it. I had enough to do to arrange for my own salvation.

I might have to walk for many days before reaching the Euphrates and without coming across a habitation. I therefore made up my mind to go well provided with food. I would carry a saddle-bag, with food, tobacco and pipe in one end, and, as a balance, I would carry a partly-filled water-skin in the other end. With such a supply I could travel, for a week or more, through the most parched country. I knew approximately whereabouts I was, as Faris had told me, as we rode to the well, that we had reached a point which must be about midway between the two great rivers. So, whether I walked due south, or south-east, I was bound to strike eventually either the Euphrates or the Tigris; and, provided that I did not meet with any roaming Bedouins on the way, I should find villages near whichever river I came to, when, I did not doubt, the Arab peasants would befriend me. In cold blood, such a journey as I proposed to take on foot would have been simple madness; but, as I was situated, there was nothing else to be done. I had to go somewhere, and I naturally decided to return by the way that I had come.

I shouldered my saddle-bag and set out on my tramp, without so much as a regret at leaving the spot. As I followed the track of the horses, it occurred to me that I was making a mistake; for, judging by the hoof-prints, my friends had fled in this direction, and had been pursued by the host of horsemen, who in all probability would, some time or another, retrace their steps to the well, in order to look for booty.

Thus they might run into me at any moment, when, of course, I should lose everything that I possessed, if not also my life. So afraid was I of such a disaster, now that I had my precious Girdle on my person, that I struck away from the track at once, and even ran, in order to try and get out of sight I now took a south-easterly course, and succeeded in covering a good many miles before sundown. I laughed at the idea of sleep; and knowing how to keep my direction by the stars, I rejoiced in the safety of the darkness, and in the cold night air. Now and again I was obliged to stop and rest, as my legs refused to carry me, and on these occasions I fell asleep as soon as I touched the ground, but usually to wake with a start and push on again.

On the following day I walked almost continuously, keeping my eyes on the look-out in all directions, and dreading the appearance of Bedouin horsemen. Twice I saw small parties on the horizon, when I lay as flat as possible on the ground for more than an hour each time, and thus avoided being seen. I was more than pleased with my day's work, and when night came on, I ate, drank, and smoked. I cannot say that I was happy, but I was as happy as, under the circumstances, it was possible to be.

That night, in spite of the cold, I slept long and soundly, and when I arose some time before daybreak, though terribly stiff, I felt much refreshed, and ready for another long march. In this manner, always marvelling at my powers of endurance, I walked for four nights and three whole days, with seldom a long rest. Then recurred the old thought that I was mad. Madmen, I said to myself, can perform feats impossible to sane people. No sane man could have lived through all this. Yet, I was still alive. I lighted my pipe, and blessed it as a comforter. I began to think that I was all right after all; and when I had finished smoking, I got up and strode ahead.

I had kept a careful mental note of the number of hours (as far as I was able to reckon them) that I walked, and I estimated that I averaged about two miles an hour. When I stopped for a sleep at the end of the fourth night, I totalled up my distance, and calculated that I had covered just over a hundred and thirty miles, which I considered by no means a bad performance. I thought that it might be even a record.

Early on the morning of the fourth day, I saw a long line of trees in the distance, and I felt certain that it marked the course of the Tigris. I was right; and within a few hours I was rapidly approaching the great rolling river, with its waters sparkling in the sun. For days I had lived for this moment, and feeling that I was almost done, I staggered along, until I reached the water's edge, when, without troubling to remove my clothes, I walked in up to my chest, and revelled in my bath. After a while I returned to the bank, and, thoroughly refreshed, sat down to gaze on the glorious scene. I could see no village anywhere; but I lay back, contented and happy, and watched the flocks of sand-grouse flying in from the desert for their morning drink.

They came in myriads, each taking its mouthful of water, and without resting, returning at once, miles away, to the burning sands. I shuddered when I thought of the pitiless wastes where they had their homes. Never again would I voluntarily go back to the desert.

The river to me was life. Why I could not say, unless it was because I knew that somewhere downstream lay Baghdad, where was peace, quiet, and rest. But how was I to reach my goal? I certainly could not walk much farther, and it would be no easy matter to walk along the overgrown banks of the winding river. A boat, or a raft, was what I wanted, but I did not see the prospect of obtaining either. In a book, I argued with myself, when the hero had arrived at the stage at which I had now arrived, he would find logs and ropes and such-like things to his hand, and would construct a raft in no time. Unfortunately, I was not the hero of a book, but a stern reality, and consequently there were no rafting materials anywhere about. My clothes were heavy with water, and I was footsore and weary, but I struggled slowly along the river-side, and prayed for the sight of a village.

Presently, on coming round a bend of the river, I saw a solitary fisherman paddling his kufa close inshore. I ran forward and hailed him, but at the sound of my voice he was seized with terror, and, dipping in his paddle, made off as fast as possible. I shouted after him that I was his friend, and that I would pay him handsomely if he would take me in his boat, so after a little he came cautiously back. I could see that he was half afraid and half curious, but my mention of money had impelled him to return and inspect me.

"How far is it to the city?" I shouted.

"A long way," he replied.

"How many days in your boat?" I asked.

"A full day and part of a night, without a rest," said he.

"Will you take me there?" I inquired, as he drew near.

"Impossible," he replied, "I have my fishing to attend to."

"But," I said, "I will pay you more money than you can earn by your fishing in a whole year."

The boat was now close to me, and without more ado I jumped straight into it. I was determined not to lose this chance, even if I had to throw the fisherman overboard. I knew that my strength was fast going. I might last as far as Baghdad, if I could sit quietly in the boat, but I could walk not another mile. My friend, who, I found, was an old man, was somewhat surprised at my action; but when I explained to him that I was an Ingleezee who had lost his way in the desert, he scented money, and told me that he was willing to do whatever I should wish.

"Where is your village?" I asked.

"About two hours up stream," he replied.

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