CHAPTER VI
THE DERVISH HEZAR
Before Burnet laid himself down that night on his humble couch inFirouz Ali's house the plan for his departure had been thoroughlydiscussed. Among the barber's friends and agents was one Ibrahim, oncea prosperous owner of camels, which he hired out to merchants orpilgrims. Since the war, however, all his camels but two had beencommandeered by the Turks; his business was ruined; and he now employedhimself in picking up camels from the remoter tribes in the Arabiandesert, and selling them to the army authorities at a miserable profit.He had adopted this occupation to cover his real business, which was tokeep in touch with the revolted chiefs at Mecca and Medina and to actas a travelling link between them and Firouz Ali, the centre of thesecret revolutionary movement in Bagdad.
Firouz Ali arranged that Burnet should become Ibrahim's temporaryassistant. Having lost no opportunity of belittling the intelligenceof his new apprentice, the barber would find it easy to explain to anyone who was curious enough to enquire, that the lad had shown himselfhopelessly inefficient, and gone to try his luck as a camel-driver.Burnet would accompany Ibrahim to Kerbela and Meshed Ali, and thencemake the best of his way to the _tell_ of Tukulti-Ninip, in good time,he hoped, for his appointment with Captain Ellingford.
Next day he did not leave the barber's house, but employed himself inwriting a letter. Curiously enough, it was addressed to himself, andin Arabic; and though of no great length, its composition occupiedseveral hours. The paper on which it was written was that thin sheetwhich he had several times laid over his map of Bagdad and theneighbourhood and marked with small dots, which formed a haphazardpattern like the stars in the firmament. Written Arabic, as every oneknows, is a series of strokes and curves and dots, like a compactersort of shorthand; and the reason why this simple letter was a work oflong labour was that the dots already marked on the paper had to beincorporated, in the most natural way possible, with the inventedmessage. When the letter was finished, only a very observant eye wouldhave noticed that some of the dots were slightly heavier than the rest.No one would have suspected that only these dots were of the leastimportance: the letter existed for them.
It read somewhat as follows:
"To my dear son Yusuf, greeting. My heart is sore, yearning for you,my sweet son, for a sight of your face, round as the moon, and youreyes, like raisins in a cake. I hope that you have not shed yourbright blood by careless handling of your uncle's razors, and I praythat you may become rich enough to give your sister a good dower, andthat you will attain as high a renown as my famous brother himself.Blessing and peace be with you. Written by the hand of the mullah foryour father and mother."
"That'll do, if I'm collared," thought Burnet, as he tucked the letterinto his girdle.
He then tore up the map which gave the key to this letter: there wereplenty more at headquarters.
In the evening, when the shop was shut, Ibrahim the camel-driver cameto the house and was introduced by Firouz Ali to his new assistant.Ibrahim had brought with him a few essential articles of clothing, andit was settled that Burnet should join him next morning at dawn.
Soon after daylight the two camel-drivers, each mounted on a ratherpoor specimen of the kind, rode southwards out of the city. Ibrahimhad a pass, which franked them through the sentries, to whom, indeed,he was pretty well known through previous journeys in and out. Likeall travellers in those desert lands he carried a rifle: Burnet,apparently unarmed, had his revolver securely tucked away.
Burnet had lived long enough in Mesopotamia to have more than a passingacquaintance with the camel, its moods and vagaries; but during thenext few days he learnt more about that useful "ship of the desert"than he had known in all his previous experience. His steed tramped onhour after hour at the same steady pace, with a jolting movement thathe found unpleasant and tedious. He longed for the lithe, springy,varied gait of a horse, and once ventured to express his preference tohis companion. Ibrahim was up in arms at once, and lectured him soroundly that he wished he had held his tongue.
"You speak out of your little knowledge, effendi," said this championof the camel. "The horse, indeed, starts with his heels in the air,and will curvet and gallop and perform as many tricks as a tumbler.But how is it at the end of the day? The beast shambles and stumbles,and, ill-tempered from hunger, he will bite and fight, scatter his cornlike a prodigal, and even paw it with his hoofs into the mire. But thecamel--behold how patiently he marches, as well at sunset as at dawn;how gently he kneels down at his journey's end, and thankfully receiveshis beans, and chews the cud peacefully until the morning. He has morewits than a horse, and if he roars, it is but to say that his saddlegalls him, and to plead that it may be restuffed. Better one camelthan twenty horses."
There was something to be said on the other side, but Burnet had tact,an excellent thing in a travelling companion.
The sixty-mile journey to Kerbela was almost uneventful. As Burnetknew, the place was seething with disaffection towards the Turks, andhe was not surprised when, a few miles from the town, a small party ofrebels suddenly sprang out from behind a palm grove and commanded thetravellers to dismount. The sequel caused him to realise that themovement controlled by Firouz Ali was very widespread. At a few wordsfrom Ibrahim, and the display of a small token that he carried in thefolds of his turban, the hostile attitude of the rebels changed as bymagic to the frankest friendliness. They readily answered Ibrahim'squestions as to affairs in the town, and took a cordial farewell.
The travellers stayed in Kerbela only long enough to rest their camels,then pushed on towards their destination, Meshed Ali, fifty miles tothe south. Leaving the palm gardens behind them at early morning, theywere soon in the barren desert. Towards sunset, when they had almostreached Birs Nimrud, half-way to their goal, they came upon a campingparty of five men, squatting on mats and eating dates, in the shade ofa small pile of ruins. Four horses were tethered close by, and Burnetsaw that one of the men, a wild, dirty, long-bearded figure clad in thedeerskin of a dervish, had his hands tied together with a piece of rope.
"What did I say, Aga?" remarked Ibrahim, as they came abreast of theparty. "The horses are far spent; they can go no further; otherwisethose men would not have paused here to rest when the town lies but afew miles beyond."
The men, each of whom had a rifle laid across his knees, looked upsomewhat suspiciously at the two travellers. Ibrahim pulled up andgave them a greeting.
"I perceive you have a prisoner," he added. "Verily he has the look ofa vile creature and a worker of iniquity. What is his offence, I prayyou?"
"Wallahi! He is indeed an evil-doer," answered the leader; "a runawaythief, and we have ridden hard to catch him."
"He shall be beaten with stripes, and repent with mourning," saidIbrahim. "Upon you be blessing and peace."
THE PRISONER]
The camels jogged on again. As they passed, the prisoner looked up andflashed one quick glance at Burnet, instantly lowering his eyes.Burnet involuntarily started, but recollected himself in a moment, andrefrained from turning his head. Those keen grey eyes, however, wereunmistakeable. The prisoner was the man who passed among the nativesas the Dervish Hezar, but was known to the British headquarters staffas Alfred Sanderson, the most daring and skilful of secret serviceagents.
When they were out of earshot, Burnet said to his companion: "Theprisoner, no thief, is a friend of Firouz Ali's. We must rescue him."
"Say you so? Firouz Ali's friends are mine, and if that man be theDervish Hezar----"
"He is."
"Ahi! But what can we do? They are four, well armed: we are but two."
"Yet it must be done, and though they are more than we, peradventurewith two there will be more wisdom and cunning than with four."
This implied compliment to his intelligence pleased Ibrahim, and assoon as they had ridden out of sight he turned aside from the beatentrack, rounded a slight eminence, and causing the camels to kneel down,asked Burnet to dismount w
ith him and talk over the problem.
"Those poor beasts," he remarked, "are jaded; they will not be fit totravel for some hours to come; therefore the men will remain where theyare until the morning. Perchance in the darkness we could steal up totheir camp and bring the dervish away."
"We had better return to it while there is still light in the sky,"said Burnet. "It will be dark in half an hour, and we might then findit difficult to discover them. The ruins will cover us from them if weapproach from the east."
"It is well said, Aga. I will give the camels a handful of beans whichthey will chew peacefully, and so refrain from disturbing the nightwith their roaring; then we will make a circuit and come to the ruinseven as the sun sets."
Less than half an hour later the two men, having made their way back tothe ruins, crept stealthily to the southern corner, where they couldsee the spot on which the five men had camped. It was growing dark,but in the slight glow from the western sky they perceived at once thatthe men were no longer there. There was no sign of them in what wasvisible of the open desert to the west; it was indeed scarcely likelythat they had decided to pursue their journey on horses so patentlyfatigued. Ibrahim suggested in a whisper that they had withdrawnfarther into the ruins to avoid observation by passengers along thedirect route from Kerbela to Meshed Ali.
This was disappointing. The ruins were extensive; to explore them inthe dark would be as hazardous as difficult. Their footsteps would beinaudible in the sand; but they might stumble against one of theinnumerable fragments of masonry that lay scattered all about, and theArab's ears are so quick that the slightest sound might utterly defeattheir purpose. The night would be moonless; even if it had beenotherwise, moonlight would have been little less dangerous thandarkness, for though they could have seen their way, a flickeringshadow might have betrayed them.
In whispers they discussed their safest course. Burnet agreed toremain on the outskirts of the ruins while Ibrahim searched. When theArab started on his quest darkness had descended, and there was only aslight glimmer from the stars. It seemed hours before he returned. Heexplained that he had almost despaired of finding the men, andconcluded that they had after all ridden away to the north, when hesuddenly heard voices, and creeping towards the sound had almoststumbled upon the party, encamped in the midst of a group of brokencolumns hidden by a slight fold in the ground. Their horses weretethered some little distance away, and from the appearance of thingsit seemed clear that the men had no intention of leaving the spot untildaybreak.
During Ibrahim's absence Burnet had turned over in his mind, not merelythe problem of getting the dervish away, but the further problem ofsuccessfully eluding pursuit. Tired as the horses were, they hadprobably had rest enough to make them more than equal to the camels inpace. Should he stampede them? It would be easy enough, but theattempt might lead to disaster, for they would almost certainly scent astranger long before he reached them, and a startled whinny would bringthe Arabs in haste upon the scene. The safer plan would be to dependon releasing the prisoner while his captors were asleep, and then onfollowing a roundabout course through the desert.
The two men consulted in whispers and soon came to a determination.Burnet, as the more active of the two, and also as being well known tothe prisoner, undertook the task of releasing him. Ibrahim meanwhilewould ensconce himself at a convenient spot near at hand, and remain onthe watch, ready to defend the others with his rifle if need arose.
The Arab has an almost unerring sense of locality and direction, and inspite of the darkness Ibrahim was able to lead Burnet without faultthrough the maze of ruins to the slight hollow where the men wereencamped. Looking down upon it from his higher point a few yards away,Burnet was just able to discern, by the glimmer of the stars, fivefigures on the ground. Four of them were squatting; every now and thena word was spoken; the fifth lay at full stretch, a little apart fromthe others.
Burnet watched and listened impatiently. Surely the men would notremain thus the whole night through. What if they slept in turn,leaving one always on guard? After a while the conversation becamestill more spasmodic and drowsy: presently it ceased altogether, andall four men sank into a recumbent posture. Secure in their retreatfar within the ruins, they had seen no need of keeping guard.
All was now silent. Not even a snore broke the stillness. Only aslight clink came occasionally from the spot where the horses weretethered. Burnet still waited, though he knew that the Arab, like allcreatures of the wild, falls asleep instantly. But he knew also thatthe sleep was light. The least unusual sound, inaudible to a Europeanear, would cause these men to spring up, as wide awake and alert as ahouse-dog.
At last he moved, stealing along a few feet away from the rim of thehollow until he came opposite the spot where the fifth man lay. Then,after a momentary pause, he wriggled down the slope as noiselessly as aslug, breathing fast, drawing nearer only inch by inch to his friend.He touched him lightly; the prisoner started, but relapsed immediatelyinto immobility. Feeling along the inert body, Burnet discovered thatnow both hands and feet were bound. With silent cuts of his knife hesevered the cords, lay for a moment listening, then crawled backwardsup the slope. Why was not the prisoner following him? He had gainedthe top before the dervish gave any sign of movement. Then, however,he began slowly to follow, and Burnet guessed that his limbs were stifffrom his bonds. Watching with eager impatience, he saw the greyishfigure, scarcely distinguishable from the earth, draw nearer to thetop. The Arabs slept on undisturbed. And at last the dervish rose tohis feet, clasped Burnet's hand, and followed him silently to the spotwhere Ibrahim was awaiting them. Without a word spoken they hastenedwith all speed to the camels. The dervish mounted behind Burnet, andwithin twenty minutes of his rescue all three were heading southwards.At the moment of starting they had a slight alarm. Ibrahim's camel,annoyed, no doubt, at the early disturbance of his rest, uttered ahoarse grunt. His master instantly pressed a couple of dates into hismouth, and the beast was appeased.
Safety lay in their making the best speed they could. Should any ofthe Arabs wake, he would almost certainly discover the absence of theprisoner, but it would be impossible to track him in the dark. Withthe dawn, however, the tracks would be easily picked up, and then theirhorses, refreshed, would regain the start if the pursuit was carriedfar enough. The dervish suggested that pursuit was unlikely. Hiscaptors belonged to a tribe that was in Turkish pay, and theneighbourhood of Meshed Ali, where the revolutionaries were strong, wasby no means safe for supporters of the Padishah. But Ibrahim,unwilling to run risks, struck off from the highway into a stonydistrict with which he had become familiar in the course of hisbusiness journeys. Here, even if they were pursued, it would bedifficult to track them.
"I owe you my life," said the dervish to Burnet as they rode on, "and Ithank you."
"I am only too glad. You helped me out of a hobble not so long ago; Inever imagined I should have a chance of doing anything in return. Butsurely your life was not in danger?"
"There can't be much doubt of it. I heard that that old ruffian thechief Halil had gone to Bagdad, and knowing that there was somedifference of opinion among his tribesmen as to his wisdom in sidingwith the Turks, I took advantage of his absence to visit them, in orderto learn the strength of the opposition party and to do what I could toincrease it--to foment treason, in fact. Some of Halil's peoplesuspected me: they were quite right: and they only waited the return oftheir chief to denounce me. He came back unexpectedly. I had warningonly just in time, and decamped. I had begun to think myself safe whenthose four fellows rode me down. No doubt there are scores more of thetribesmen hunting me in all directions. Halil has an old grudgeagainst me: I crossed him once before."
"Then I am doubly lucky. Halil's business in Bagdad was to arrange anattack on Rejeb's people. He is back sooner than I thought possible,and I am glad to know it, as I should not have done but for meetingyou. It is one more item in my budget of news for headquarters."
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The conversation was conducted in Arabic. The identity of the dervishwas known only to the headquarters staff and to Firouz Ali, and healways took particular care not to let fall the slightest hint that hewas other than an Arab, even to fellow-workers in the same cause.
Ibrahim allowed his animals to finish their interrupted rest during thesmall hours, and the travellers started again at dawn. When they werestill a mile or two distant from Meshed Ali, within sight of theglittering dome of its mosque towering high above the walls, thedervish dismounted.
"It will be better for us all if I enter the city alone," he said. "Ishall not be long after you. But if we meet within the walls, let itbe as strangers."
"You are a wise man, O dervish," said Ibrahim, "and I perceive that thespirit of Firouz Ali is in you. Allah will bring us all togetheropenly in his good time."
Burnet and Ibrahim reached the city about an hour before noon, andpassing through the one gate in its high brick walls, and along thecrowded bazar, came to the khan or inn where Ibrahim had decided thatthey should part. After the Arab had attended to his beasts, hereturned to the chief room, where traders, camel-drivers and otherswere squatting around the walls, ordered a meal, and then carried outthe instructions of Firouz Ali.
"By the Beard, you are a lazy good-for-nothing," he cried in a loudtone, addressing Burnet. "What evil destiny brought you before myeyes? Why in the softness of my heart did I have pity on you, poorfool, and hire you to be my helper? Truly my heart got the better ofmy head, for you know no more of camels than a week-old babe. I takeyou all to witness," he went on, looking round the room, "that I paythis worthless loon the hire agreed on, and I bid him go back to hispaltry village and feed goats, for he is fit for nothing better.Begone, I say, and let me see your face no more."
Burnet took the few coins offered him, and assumed the shamefaced airof a servant dismissed in disgrace. The little scene had been arrangedbetween him and Firouz Ali in order to protect Ibrahim in case heshould ever have to defend himself against the charge of consortingwith a spy. The public dismissal would provide the camel-driver withwitnesses.
As Burnet slunk out of the room, he saw the dervish leaning against thepost: he had entered while the scene was in progress. There was atwinkle in the Englishman's eyes as Burnet passed him; but neither gavethe other any sign of recognition, and Burnet went his way to the gate,as a discarded servant about to return to his hill village on thePersian frontier.
He spent his money in the purchase of a waterskin and a quantity ofdates sufficient for a few days' supply. Captain Ellingford was due atthe _tell_ in three days. Barring accidents, Burnet should have plentyof time to keep his appointment.