"She is your favourite, sheik," I said.
"Yes," he replied, "even so. She has carried me in many a bloody fight with the accursed Shammar, and has borne many good colts. Moreover, her grand-dam was my father's much-prized mare, a true Kuhailan, so he always affirmed. He captured her from the Shammar--a fact which I cast in their teeth when I prevail over them by reason of the handiness and swiftness of the mare. She is indeed a bird without wings."
I now had my opening, for of course I remembered what was written in the document wherein mention had been made of the Golden Girdle.
"I have heard of the Kuhailan mare," I remarked quietly.
"Of what mare?" inquired Faris, looking at me intently.
"Shahzadi," I replied, "the daughter of a Kuhailan Haifi, out of the dam Labadah. Was it not so?"
"That indeed was what my father always told me, and the Shammar themselves told him how the mare was bred. How do you, an Ingleezee, know of such matters as these? It may be that you have learned them from the Shammar."
"Not so, Sheik of Sheiks," I replied. "What I know of the mare I have read in my own country."
"Wonder of wonders!" exclaimed Faris. "They speak truly when they say that you Englishmen know everything. Tell me more of what you know."
"I will tell you _all_ I know," I said, "and if you will allow me to go to my tent, I will fetch you a translation of what I believe to be a true document relating to the famous mare, which your father captured from the Shammar."
"You astonish me beyond measure," said the sheik; "be pleased to go and bring the paper."
At that moment the thud of horses' hoofs broke the stillness of the night air, and, thinking that it meant a night attack, I turned to the sheik, who stepped out in front of his tent, and shouted a few words in a deep voice. An answer came back out of the darkness, and then Faris explained to me that the horsemen were those of his party whose duty it had been to lay a false scent for the Turkish police to follow, and who had ridden into camp by a circuitous route.
"For years," said he, "we have done the same thing. On reaching the nullah, some of us go one way and some another. The Turkis fear to follow either party, knowing that if once they enter the nullah, they are liable not only to be ambuscaded by one party but to be taken in rear by the other party. But they are simple folk these town-bred Turkis, and in driving us as far as the nullah, they consider that they have done their duty. So they return to their coffee-houses to drink their coffee and tell their companions how they encountered the Bedouins, and defeated them. Yet, to-morrow, if we wished, we could ride in and pillage half the villages on the outskirts of Hillah. However, the ways of these Turki dogs are of no interest to either you or me, for I know, from my many friends in Baghdad, what you Englishmen think of them. Let us talk again of our horses, and let me hear what you know of Kushki's ancestors."
I went off to my tent, and returned with my note-book, when the sheik took me into his private apartment, and motioned me to a seat on a pile of soft cushions. I showed him the sketch of Shahzadi's shoe, and he at once commented on the eight nail holes. Then I turned to my copy of the document, which, re-translating into Arabic, I read out to my host. He was deeply moved, and drank in every word that I uttered, nodding his head as I concluded each sentence, and vouchsafing that what I said was true. When I came to the last line I hesitated for a second--from excitement, I suppose--but, recovering, I translated leisurely, "The man bore away the serpent belt of pure gold coveted by the desert tribes."
"Quite true," said the sheik. "Everything that you have read is true.
But now tell me, was it indeed an accident that brought you and your friend the Hakim to our tents?"
The question came so suddenly, that I confess it quite staggered me. But I felt that the man with whom I was dealing was upright and honest, and I decided that I would meet him on his own ground, and risk the consequences. I stood up and met his gaze.
"Faris-ibn-Feyzul, Sheik of the Jelas Aeniza," I said, "I am an Englishman, and, I trust, a man of honour. Believe me, that in accepting your hospitality, I had no intention of deceiving you. I waited only for an opportunity to speak to you, and that opportunity has now come. It was no accident that brought us to your tents."
I then explained fully the nature of my mission, and how I hoped to be able to obtain from him some information about the Golden Girdle. He listened attentively, and without showing any sign of displeasure. At last he took my hand in his, and spoke solemnly and quietly.
"Friend and honoured guest," he said, "you have spoken to me straightforwardly, and straightforwardly shall I always deal with you.
Stay with us as long as you will, and you shall be welcome, but take my advice, and abandon all idea of possessing that accursed belt of gold.
Did you but know the havoc that it wrought among the tribes ere it disappeared, you would let it lie for ever in its resting-place. If you would hear more of it, then to-morrow will I tell you what I know, and willingly. To-night we have already talked late."
"What a time you have been," grunted Edwards, as I entered the tent after saying good-night to the sheik. "You have lost all your beauty sleep. I have been in bed for hours."
"Business, my boy," I replied. "I have been having a most interesting talk with Faris."
Edwards sat up wide awake, while I related, as shortly as possible, what our host had told me.
"Do you think I did right," I asked, when I had finished, "in making a clean breast of everything?"
"You could not well have done anything else," he replied. "Both the father and the son are thorough gentlemen. Besides, one cannot humbug these Bedouins; they would see through you at once. I wonder if they really know where your golden treasure is buried. I did not say a word about it to Sedjur, as I was afraid of making a mess of things. By the way, he and his father are going off in the morning to an oasis somewhere or other miles away in the desert, where they have got some brood mares and camels, and he thought we might like the ride with them.
So I accepted for both of us. Are you on for it?"
"Of course I am," said I. "I don't let old Faris out of my sight until I have heard what he has to tell about that blessed belt."
CHAPTER V.
RAIDERS.
Barely a streak of dawn had shown itself in the eastern sky, when Sedjur clamoured at our tent door, shouting to us that it was time that we were up and in the saddle. Silence reigned in the encampment, as we stepped out into the grey morning, to find the sheik and his son already mounted, and awaiting us. An Arab stood close at hand holding the two horses which we were to ride, and the sheik, giving us a friendly greeting, told me that the beasts which he had selected for us were both sons of his favourite Kushki, the fleetest that he possessed, and far better than our own. He and Sedjur we noticed were armed with spear and sword, and before starting they made certain that we carried our revolvers.
"One can never tell," said Sedjur, "what the day may bring forth, and to go unarmed in the desert is to court death."
So, with the cold invigorating air almost cutting our faces, we set out on our ride into the unknown, at first picking our way slowly among the low bushes, then, on reaching the great sandy wastes, quickening our pace to a gentle canter. How our companions knew the way puzzled us considerably, for no landmark could we distinguish in any direction.
Everywhere was sand--hard, red, baked sand; a veritable ocean of sand, and, like the ocean, wind-swept into mighty billows. The sun gradually rose, and we soon discovered that no landmark was necessary, as our route evidently lay due west, and the sun at our backs gave us our course.
For several hours the ride was monotonous in the extreme, then, at about noon, the sandy plains began to show signs of a change of country.
Stones cropped up here and there, and in the far distance we could distinguish the filmy outlines of hills and mountains. The hills gradually drew nearer, and in a short time we found ourselves in a new land. Below us was a hollow filled with verdure, date trees, acacias, tamarisks, and luxuriant grassland, through which flowed trickling streams. This was the principal grazing ground of Faris's camels and mares, which we saw scattered in all directions, their herdsmen--all armed with spears and matchlocks--keeping a good look-out on the surrounding high ground.
"Hide yourselves behind the rocks," said the sheik, quietly, "and we will soon see if the men are on the alert."
Then stepping forward himself on to the sky-line, he stood quite motionless, while we peered from behind our shelters into the valley below. Far down in a date grove we heard the neigh of a horse, followed by the barking of a dog; then, as we looked, we could see each sentry turn instinctively towards the figure of the sheik. They had discovered the cause of the alarm, and Faris, satisfied, shouted a watchword which was evidently understood. The chief of the herdsmen rode up to greet us, and we descended with him to the shady spot where his tent was pitched, and where he soon regaled us with coffee and dates.
"Well, Hussein, what is the news?" asked the sheik.
"Nothing of great consequence, Lord Protector," answered the herdsmen, "but I am glad you have come. For three days now single Shammar horsemen have been observing us from different points, and we fear that they intend a raid on the beasts so soon as the moon gives sufficient light.
We fully expected it last night, but no one came."
"Ah, Hussein," said the sheik, "it is the old story which you always have to tell. Rest assured that no Shammar dares to touch the property of Faris-ibn-Feyzul. Bring some more coffee, and then we will smoke our pipes until it is time for us to start again for our tents."
The sheik was in the best of spirits, and even talkative. Sedjur and he were evidently devoted to each other, and we could see that the father was as proud of his son as was the son of his father. They had ridden side by side in many a fight, though even now Sedjur was but twenty-four; and each had many tales to tell of the prowess of the other.
"How many of the accursed robbers did you say you encountered at Babil the day before yesterday, father?" asked Sedjur.
"Ten of the Shammar," was the reply, "and one other, of what tribe or nationality I know not. He was not of the desert, though wearing the dress. Perchance he came from Bokhara, or Yarkhand, or, God knows, from India. But whatever land gave him birth must be glad to be rid of him, for he showed not the courage of an Arab townsman. When we bore down on the band he incontinently rode off, and did not rein up and turn to see what was going on until at a safe distance. The dog valued his skin greatly."
"And you put them all to flight?"
"Surely did we," answered the sheik, vehemently, "and sent that black villain, Abbas, to Gehennum."
"What, Abbas-ibn-Rashid?"
"Even so, he who nearly killed you outside Baghdad, when our good friend, the Hakim, here, saved your life. It was an old score, my lad, and I wiped it out, praise be to Allah! We would have sent some more of his followers after the scoundrel, had not the soldiers come down on us, and I doubt not but that Abbas himself had previously warned them to be prepared."
"I am almost sorry, father, that you slew Abbas," said Sedjur, softly.