Complete Works of L. Frank Baum, page 678
He was not at all clever, this big and handsome bandit. No wonder the Professor found it easy to fool him.
For answer I shook my head. “What you ask is impossible,” I said, truly. “Van Dorn has guarded his secret well, for only he knows where to unearth the treasure.”
“Then,” declared the sheik, with an abrupt change in tone, “I must have Van Dorn. Come; let us ride on.”
“Do you expect to capture Van Dorn’s party with three men?” inquired Archie, maliciously.
“No; I will tell you my plan. I intend to make a compact with Gege-Merak, if I can overtake him,” was the calm answer. “Together we will get the treasure that has been already taken and what still remains. We have only to wrest the secret from the red-bearded jackal, and kill him. Then we will divide the spoils and each go our own way. It is simple and easy enough to do, is it not?”
It seemed to me rather difficult, but I said nothing. Knowing more of the situation than Abdul Hashim did, I realized that the Bega chief was already our secret enemy and would doubtless be glad to form an alliance with the Arab, although the Bega professed to despise the Bedouins who shared the desert with them. I pinned my faith to Ned Britton, our stalwart sailors, and Bry, and to the cleverness of the Professor. Abdul Hashim would find some opposition in carrying out his “easy and simple” plans.
The camels were now sent forward at a swift pace and soon we reached the miserable oasis of Laketa. There we learned that all the men of the village — some half dozen — had joined Gege-Merak’s party and gone into the mountains. The party of Americans had followed in pursuit an hour later, said an old woman who spoke English imperfectly.
“Why pursuit?” I asked in wonder, when the sheik, at this information, turned to me with a triumphant leer.
That, however, the ignorant creature could not explain, either in her native dialect or in English. We only knew that friends and foes had disappeared into the foothills several hours before, and it puzzled me greatly to understand why Uncle Naboth had left us three boys to our fate and started in pursuit of the Bega chief. The only plausible explanation was that the Professor wanted to kill Gege-Merak before he could betray the secret of the treasure and set the authorities at Koser upon us; but even then it was unlikely that my uncle would consent to abandon me and my companions for the sake of the treasure or to obey Van Dorn’s whim. It was not like the faithful old fellow, who had stood by me in many a former emergency.
Abdul Hashim did not delay at the village, but pushed on hastily, late as it was. We three boys were ordered to ride ahead, and our captors followed with rifles ready to shoot if we dared swerve from the path. Neither could we outdistance them, for their camels were as swift as our own and more obedient to their control. So we were as much prisoners as if bound and manacled.
The twilight is brief in Egypt, so soon after the setting of the sun we were obliged to make a halt. We had now reached the old abandoned well of the Romans, and beside it we made our camp.
First of all the Arabs tethered the camels; then calmly proceeded to bind us in an original manner. Our legs were tied from ankles to knees, and a rope was placed around each of our necks, looping us together and connecting us in one string with the most powerful of the two Arabs who accompanied the sheik. We were given food and a swallow of tepid water each, and afterward our wrists were firmly tied behind us. Trussed up like so many mummies, we were commanded to lie down and sleep!
Strange to say, we did sleep — not comfortably, perhaps, but from extreme fatigue; for the hard riding of the day had thoroughly exhausted us.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE WELL OF THE SCORPIONS
NEXT MORNING I awoke at early dawn to see Abdul Hashim standing by the curb of the abandoned well and looking into its depths thoughtfully. His men joined him a moment later, and they conversed together in low tones in Arabic. Several times I heard the word “akareb” mentioned, which I knew to signify scorpions, and at times they would cast a pebble into the well and then peer after it curiously.
At first I could not imagine what the fellows were up to. I knew scorpions were thick in these foothills, and remembered that my friend Ketti had warned me of them as we passed through; but why should the Arabs be so interested in the fact that there were numbers of these vermin at the bottom of the abandoned well?
The sheik soon solved the mystery, to my great horror. He came to us and kicked us in turn, bidding us harshly to rise.
Something in the man’s eyes warned me of grave danger. His mood had changed over night and instead of the thin mask of friendliness there was now a wicked look on his finely cut features that I was positive meant our imminent destruction — if he could accomplish it.
I slowly and with effort struggled to my feet, as did Archie and Joe. I braced myself for the final struggle.
“If I am to reach Gege-Merak I can carry you with me no longer,” announced the sheik, in a surly tone.
“Therefore you will have the misfortune to fall into the well here, and if your bones are ever found no one can blame me for your death.”
“The well is full of scorpions, boys,” I said to my companions. “The sheik means to murder us.”
Archie shuddered, Joe remaining strangely silent.
“It isn’t a pleasant fate, Abdul Hashim,” I continued, turning to face the scowling Arab. “Why don’t you shoot us down, and make an end of it?”
“Ah, I fear your friend, the Cadi,” he responded, with a guttural laugh. “My plan is safe for me, and as sure for yourselves. There shall be no bullet holes in your flesh to trap me; there shall be no bonds around you to prove foul play if you are discovered in the well before the scorpions have picked your bones clean. Now, then, Hassan — get to work!” he added, turning with a gesture of command to his tall follower.
Hassan proceeded to free Joe from his bonds — he was first at hand — and the others at the same time began to untie our cords.
“I will give you a chance to fight the scorpions,” said the sheik, grimly; but that was the biggest mistake he ever made. He should not have risked loosening our bonds. He took us for mere boys, but forgot that even a boy, if he is an American and desperate, will fight to the last for life and liberty.
The tall one pushed Joe toward the edge of the well and was about to thrust him over the brink when the boy, who had seemed dazed and inert, suddenly stooped and grasped the Arab’s legs. It was the old trick that had once before astonished us. There was a brief struggle and then the man rose into the air, his arms extended and swinging in space, and plunged head foremost into the pit. His cry of terror, as he fell, was bloodcurdling, and Abdul Hashim gave an answering yell and sprang toward Joe with a knife glittering in his upraised hand.
Swift as an arrow the boy darted under his arm and ran where a rifle leaned against the rock. I saw him swing around and fire point blank at the sheik, who was not three paces away — but I had business of my own to attend to. For the burly Arab who had partly unfastened my bonds now clutched me by the throat and threw me to the ground, where he knelt on my chest and drew his pistol from his belt. Just as he fired the weapon was thrust aside and Archie’s big fist crashed into the fellow’s face and knocked him flat beside me.
“All right, Sam; you can get up now,” said the Yankee, cheerfully. “The war’s over.”
He cut my remaining bonds with a knife; half conscious of what had happened, I sat up and looked around.
Joe was seated on a rock bandaging his leg with a handkerchief.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Only a scratch,” he replied. “Abdul Hashim’s knife grazed me as he fell.”
The sheik was lying motionless upon his face. Archie turned him over and the dark eyes stared steadfastly at the sun, without blinking. I found myself trembling as with an ague.
“It’s dreadful, boys!” I gasped, appalled by what we had done.
“So it is,” answered Joe, nodding; “but it was our lives against theirs, Sam, and — ”
He paused abruptly, glaring at something behind me. Archie screamed a warning and I sprang to my feet to find that the third Arab had recovered consciousness and was about to plunge a knife into my back.
I caught his wrist and struggled to hold the keen blade away from me, but the fellow was strong as an ox and mad with rage. Archie came to the rescue and dealt him a couple of stinging blows, so that he dropped the knife and caught us both in a fierce embrace, crushing the two of us against his breast while he dragged us nearer to the well.
I realized his intention and screamed and struggled without avail. Nearer and nearer to the scorpion pit we were dragged until all three of us, a writhing mass of flesh and muscle, were tottering on the brink.
Suddenly a pistol shot cracked — seemingly close to my ear — and the Arab’s head dropped. He gave us one final, spasmodic hug, and partly relaxed his grasp. I felt that we were all three reeling into the awful depths below, when my hair was clutched and I was torn from that terrible embrace and hurled to the earth. It was Joe who had saved me, and from where I lay I saw him straining to save Archie also from falling into the well. The Arab was either dead or desperately wounded, but with his final instinct of enmity he clung to Archie on one side while Joe dragged at him from the other. The Arab’s body, however, was hanging over the pit, and its weight would soon draw my struggling, desperate friends after it unless prompt help was rendered them. I again leaped up and, half dazed as I was, clung frantically to Joe, and my added weight gave us the victory. For the Arab’s grasp slackened and his body slowly collapsed and fell with a thud to the bottom of the pit, while we three, clinging together and panting from our efforts, staggered away to sink weakly upon the ground.
It had all happened in half the time it takes to tell it, and for a moment the sudden revulsion from impending death to absolute freedom was more than we could comprehend. A little time ago we were being dragged by our terrible captors to the scorpion pit, there to meet a frightful death, and now two of our assailants were themselves in the pit, while the third lay motionless before us!
“How did it happen?” I asked myself, greatly bewildered; and then I remembered how Joe’s trick at wrestling had tumbled the first man into the well; how Joe had seized the rifle and shot Abdul Hashim; how Joe had vanquished the last Arab by a pistol shot as Archie and I struggled with him for dear life.
Joe? Yes; Joe had done all this. The quiet, slender lad I had once befriended through pity had now saved us all three from an awful fate, and by his extraordinary pluck and quick wit had proved himself a hero indeed.
Joe sat before me in an inert heap, breathing fast after his amazing efforts. Silently I reached out and grasped both his hands in mine, pressing them with gratitude too deep for words. Archie awoke from his stupefied abstraction and shook our deliverer’s hands warmly in his big paws. But he too forbore to speak. Words are poor things, and — Joe understood, I’m sure.
Finally we grew calm enough to resume conversation and to inquire what it was best we should do next. I was for taking the three best camels and pushing on toward Koser, hoping to find the pass through the mountains and regain the ship. My friends thought the plan as safe and practical as any. So I arose, rather unsteadily for my nerves were still on edge, and searched the saddle-bags for food, having had no breakfast. I found plenty of dates, banyans and dried goat’s flesh, and we each took a portion of these and began to eat.
Presently Archie crawled to the edge of the well and leaning over looked in. I saw his face blanch and a look of horror come to his eyes, but neither Joe nor I asked a single question as our comrade hastily drew back and came to our side. Nor have I questioned him since. Whatever the Yankee boy saw in that gloomy pit he has never cared to speak of.
We were about to mount our animals, having recovered our rifles and some of our other weapons, when the quick tread of approaching camels reached our ears. Unnerved by our recent experience, our first impulse was to grasp our rifles and leap behind a sheltering rock, from which refuge we might determine whether friends or foes were drawing near.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
VAN DORN TURNS TRAITOR
THE TREAD OF the camels sounded ahead of us from up the trail, and soon we were reassured by a loud voice speaking in hearty American fashion. Shortly after there moved into our line of vision Uncle Naboth and Ned Britton, riding side by side, while after them came Bryonia and the sailors from the Seagull.
With a shout of joy, we leaped from our concealment, and my uncle fairly tumbled off his tall camel in his eagerness to embrace me. It was indeed a joyful reunion, and for a while no questions were asked on either side, the satisfaction of knowing we were all safe and reunited being enough for us.
But soon the silent form of Abdul Hashim stretched upon the ground attracted attention, and Uncle Naboth leaned over it and asked in a hushed voice:
“Who killed him, Sam?”
“Joe, uncle; and by killing him saved all our lives.” As quickly and in as few words as possible, I related the tragic scene just enacted.
But the relation of Abdul Hashim’s enmity reminded me to ask a question, in turn.
“Where is the Professor, uncle?”
“And where’s the treasure?” demanded Archie, almost in the same breath.
Uncle Naboth frowned and looked glum, and Ned swore a deep oath in sailor fashion.
“The Perfessor, Sam, is a infernal scoundrel!” my uncle answered.
I glanced at the dead Arab. Was his story indeed true, I wondered, and had Van Dorn wronged Abdul Hashim even as the sheik had declared? If so, much might be forgiven the Arab.
“Let us admit the Professor is a scoundrel,” I remarked, “for such a statement does not surprise me. But that does not account for his absence.”
“Yes; it does,” retorted Uncle Naboth; “an’ it ‘counts for our runnin’ away and leavin’ you boys in the lurch. Almost it accounts for your all bein’ killed — which you would ‘a’ been, lads, if it hadn’t been fer Joe.” Here he glanced affectionately at our hero, who grew red and embarrassed.
“True enough, uncle,” I said. “Tell us about it, please.”
“It were this way, Sam,” he began, seating himself upon a stone and mopping his brow with his red silk handkerchief, for it was hot up here among the rocks and Mr. Perkins was round and chubby. “You boys hadn’t more ‘n started for Luxor yesterday mornin’ before that blasted Gege-Merak come a-ridin’ up with his band an’ all the scoundrels in the village. They halted a little way off, for we showed fight an’ they was summat afraid of us. But that little dried-up one-eyed chief was game to come on alone, an’ as soon as he was in speakin’ distance he begun jabberin’ away in Arabia to the Perfessor. Van Dorn answered back, for he can talk Arabia well enough himself, an’ so they jabbered together for a time. I asked ‘em to speak so’s we could understand, for ol’ Gege can talk English if he wants to, as you know; but the Perfessor told me not to interfere.
“‘You leave me to deal with him,’ says he, ‘an’ I’ll negotiate this business all right. P’raps,’ says he, ‘the Bega will keep our secret, after all, an’ not want a share o’ the plunder, either. He ain’t lookin’ for trouble,’ says the Perfessor.
“So I said nothin’ more, an’ they talked an’ jabbered a long while. Then on a suddint Van Dorn turns an’ says: ‘The chief thinks some o’ you understan’ Arabia, the langwidge as we’re speakin’, an’ he suspicions we’re a-trappin’ him.’
“‘We’re all honest English,’ says I, ‘an’ I’m glad to say we don’t know a word of Arabia. What does he want, anyhow?’
“The Perfessor looked hard at Gege, but ol’ one-eye wouldn’t talk English. ‘Come,’ says the Perfessor, ‘state your terms.’ But still Gege was silent as a clam.
“‘I guess,’ says the Perfessor, ‘you all better draw aside an’ leave me to dicker with the chief. Draw back a little,’ says he, motionin’ to us.
“Well, you know, Sam, we’d come to rely a good deal on Van Dorn. He’d led us straight to the treasure, as he’d said he would, an’ he’d sealed it all up accordin’ to agreement until we could get it aboard ship an’ divide it proper. An’ we knew we’d have a hard time gettin’ back to Koser if we had to fight Gege an’ his men all the way. So we thought if Van Dorn could settle the trouble in his own fashion we’d give him every chance to do so. Leastwise, that’s what I thought, for I told the boys to ride off a little way, out o’ earshot. We did that, leavin’ the Perfessor an’ the chief together, and leavin’ — that’s where we blundered, my lad — leavin’ the two camels with the treasure with ‘em. But we hadn’t a thought of treachery until ol’ Gege raised his arm an’ the whole troop o’ villains come rushin’ forward. They surrounded the Perfessor an’ the camels, fired a few shots at us, an’ then turned an’ rode as fast as they could for the village.
“Ned an’ I didn’t know what to do for a minute. The Perfessor was escapin’ as lively as the rest, leadin’ one treasure camel, while ol’ Gege led the other; so we knew well enough he’d put up the job on us and made a dicker with Gege to rob us of our share.
“‘The boys won’t be back till afternoon, so let’s foller the thieves an’ fight it out,’ says Ned. That struck me as sensible, so after ‘em we went, not meanin’ at the time to desert you, but tryin’ to save the treasure we had earned an’ to balk the plans of that dum-sizzled Perfessor.”
“You did quite right, uncle,” said I. “I don’t blame you a bit. Well?”
“Well, lad, they didn’t stop at the village, as we expected, but kep’ right on. Also we kep’ right on. Whenever we got too close they’d turn an’ shoot at us, but they never hit anything, an’ we didn’t dare shoot much ourselves for fear o’ killin the girl, who was ridin’ her camel just beside the chief an’ the Perfessor.”
