XVIII
THE FIRE-FLIES
Through the great open window, waves of pale moonlight surged into myroom.
A slender white figure was standing beside the bed where I lay.
"You, Tanit-Zerga!" I murmured. She laid a finger on her lips.
"Sh! Yes, it is I."
I tried to raise myself up on the bed. A terrible pain seized myshoulder. The events of the afternoon came back to my poor harassedmind.
"Oh, little one, if you knew!"
"I know," she said.
I was weaker than a baby. After the overstrain of the day had come afit of utter nervous depression. A lump rose in my throat, choking me.
"If you knew, if you only knew!... Take me away, little one. Get meaway from here."
"Not so loud," she whispered. "There is a white Targa on guard at thedoor."
"Take me away; save me," I repeated.
"That is what I came for," she said simply.
I looked at her. She no longer was wearing her beautiful red silktunic. A plain white _haik_ was wrapped about her; and she had drawnone corner of it over her head.
"I want to go away, too," she said in a smothered voice.
"For a long time, I have wanted to go away. I want to see Gao, thevillage on the bank of the river, and the blue gum trees, and thegreen water.
"Ever since I came here, I have wanted to get away," she repeated,"but I am too little to go alone into the great Sahara. I never daredspeak to the others who came here before you. They all thought only of_her_.... But you, you wanted to kill her."
I gave a low moan.
"You are suffering," she said. "They broke your arm."
"Dislocated it anyhow."
"Let me see."
With infinite gentleness, she passed her smooth little hands over myshoulder.
"You tell me that there is a white Targa on guard before my door,Tanit-Zerga," I said. "Then how did you get in?"
"That way," she said, pointing to the window. A dark perpendicularline halved its blue opening.
Tanit-Zerga went to the window. I saw her standing erect on the sill.A knife shone in her hands. She cut the rope at the top of theopening. It slipped down to the stone with a dry sound.
She came back to me.
"How can we escape?" I asked.
"That way," she repeated, and she pointed again at the window.
I leaned out. My feverish gaze fell upon the shadowy depths, searchingfor those invisible rocks, the rocks upon which little Kaine haddashed himself.
"That way!" I exclaimed, shuddering. "Why, it is two hundred feet fromhere to the ground."
"The rope is two hundred and fifty," she replied. "It is a good strongrope which I stole in the oasis; they used it in felling trees. It isquite new."
"Climb down that way, Tanit-Zerga! With my shoulder!"
"I will let you down," she said firmly. "Feel how strong my arms are.Not that I shall rest your weight on them. But see, on each side ofthe window is a marble column. By twisting the rope around one ofthem, I can let you slip down and scarcely feel your weight.
"And look," she continued, "I have made a big knot every ten feet. Ican stop the rope with them, every now and then, if I want to rest."
"And you?" I asked.
"When you are down, I shall tie the rope to one of the columns andfollow. There are the knots on which to rest if the rope cuts my handstoo much. But don't be afraid: I am very agile. At Gao, when I wasjust a child, I used to climb almost as high as this in the gum treesto take the little toucans out of their nests. It is even easier toclimb down."
"And when we are down, how will we get out? Do you know the waythrough the barriers?"
"No one knows the way through the barriers," she said, "exceptCegheir-ben-Cheikh, and perhaps Antinea."
"Then?"
"There are the camels of Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, those which he uses onhis forays. I untethered the strongest one and led him out, just belowus, and gave him lots of hay so that he will not make a sound and willbe well fed when we start."
"But...." I still protested.
She stamped her foot.
"But what? Stay if you wish, if you are afraid. I am going. I want tosee Gao once again, Gao with its blue gum-trees and its green water."
I felt myself blushing.
"I will go, Tanit-Zerga. I would rather die of thirst in the midst ofthe desert than stay here. Let us start."
"Tut!" she said. "Not yet."
She showed me that the dizzy descent was in brilliant moonlight.
"Not yet. We must wait. They would see us. In an hour, the moon willhave circled behind the mountain. That will be the time."
She sat silent, her _haik_ wrapped completely about her dark littlefigure. Was she praying? Perhaps.
Suddenly I no longer saw her. Darkness had crept in the window. Themoon had turned.
Tanit-Zerga's hand was on my arm. She drew me toward the abyss. Itried not to tremble.
Everything below us was in shadow. In a low, firm voice, Tanit-Zergabegan to speak:
"Everything is ready. I have twisted the rope about the pillar. Hereis the slip-knot. Put it under your arms. Take this cushion. Keep itpressed against your hurt shoulder.... A leather cushion.... It istightly stuffed. Keep face to the wall. It will protect you againstthe bumping and scraping."
I was now master of myself, very calm. I sat down on the sill of thewindow, my feet in the void. A breath of cool air from the peaksrefreshed me.
I felt little Tanit-Zerga's hand in my vest pocket.
"Here is a box. I must know when you are down, so I can follow. Youwill open the box. There are fire-flies in it; I shall see them andfollow you."
She held my hand a moment.
"Now go," she murmured.
I went.
I remember only one thing about that descent: I was overcome withvexation when the rope stopped and I found myself, feet dangling,against the perfectly smooth wall.
"What is the little fool waiting for?" I said to myself. "I have beenhung here for a quarter of an hour. Ah ... at last! Oh, here I amstopped again." Once or twice I thought I was reaching the ground, butit was only a projection from the rock. I had to give a quick shovewith my foot.... Then, suddenly, I found myself seated on the ground.I stretched out my hands. Bushes.... A thorn pricked my finger. I wasdown.
Immediately I began to get nervous again.
I pulled out the cushion and slipped off the noose. With my good hand,I pulled the rope, holding it out five or six feet from the face ofthe mountain, and put my foot on it.
Then I took the little cardboard box from my pocket and opened it.
One after the other, three little luminous circles rose in the inkynight. I saw them rise higher and higher against the rocky wall. Theirpale rose aureols gleamed faintly. Then, one by one, they turned,disappeared.
"You are tired, Sidi Lieutenant. Let me hold the rope."
Cegheir-ben-Cheikh rose up at my side.
I looked at his tall black silhouette. I shuddered, but I did not letgo of the rope on which I began to feel distant jerks.
"Give it to me," he repeated with authority.
And he took it from my hands.
I don't know what possessed me then. I was standing beside that greatdark phantom. And I ask you, what could I, with a dislocatedshoulder, do against that man whose agile strength I already knew?What was there to do? I saw him buttressed against the wall, holdingthe rope with both hands, with both feet, with all his body, muchbetter than I had been able to do.
A rustling above our heads. A little shadowy form.
"There," said Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, seizing the little shadow in hispowerful arms and placing her on the ground, while the rope, letslack, slapped back against the rock.
Tanit-Zerga recognized the Targa and groaned.
He put his hand roughly over her mouth.
"Shut up, camel thief, wretched little fly."
He seized her arm. Then he turned to me.
&nbs
p; "Come," he said in an imperious tone.
I obeyed. During our short walk, I heard Tanit-Zerga's teethchattering with terror.
We reached a little cave.
"Go in," said the Targa.
He lighted a torch. The red light showed a superb mehari peacefullychewing his cud.
"The little one is not stupid," said Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, pointing tothe animal. "She knows enough to pick out the best and the strongest.But she is rattle-brained."
He held the torch nearer the camel.
"She is rattle-brained," he continued. "She only saddled him. Nowater, no food. At this hour, three days from now, all three of youwould have been dead on the road, and on what a road!"
Tanit-Zerga's teeth no longer chattered. She was looking at the Targawith a mixture of terror and hope.
"Come here, Sidi Lieutenant," said Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, "so that I canexplain to you."
When I was beside him, he said:
"On each side there is a skin of water. Make that water last as longas possible, for you are going to cross a terrible country. It may bethat you will not find a well for three hundred miles.
"There," he went on, "in the saddle bags, are cans of preserved meat.Not many, for water is much more precious. Here also is a carbine,your carbine, sidi. Try not to use it except to shoot antelopes. Andthere is this."
He spread out a roll of paper. I saw his inscrutible face bent overit; his eyes were smiling; he looked at me.
"Once out of the enclosures, what way did you plan to go?" he asked.
"Toward Ideles, to retake the route where you met the Captain and me,"I said.
Cegheir-ben-Cheikh shook his head.
"I thought as much," he murmured.
Then he added coldly:
"Before sunset to-morrow, you and the little one would have beencaught and massacred."
"Toward the north is Ahaggar," he continued, "and all Ahaggar is underthe control of Antinea. You must go south."
"Then we shall go south."
"By what route?"
"Why, by Silet and Timissao."
The Targa again shook his head.
"They will look for you on that road also," he said. "It is a goodroad, the road with the wells. They know that you are familiar withit. The Tuareg would not fail to wait at the wells."
"Well, then?"
"Well," said Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, "you must not rejoin the road fromTimissao to Timbuctoo until you are four hundred miles from heretoward Iferouane, or better still, at the spring of Telemsi. That isthe boundary between the Tuareg of Ahaggar and the AwellimidenTuareg."
The little voice of Tanit-Zerga broke in:
"It was the Awellimiden Tuareg who massacred my people and carried meinto slavery. I do not want to pass through the country of theAwellimiden."
"Be still, miserable little fly," said Cegheir-ben-Cheikh.
Then addressing me, he continued:
"I have said what I have said. The little one is not wrong. TheAwellimiden are a savage people. But they are afraid of the French.Many of them trade with the stations north of the Niger. On the otherhand, they are at war with the people of Ahaggar, who will not followyou into their country. What I have said, is said. You must rejointhe Timbuctoo road near where it enters the borders of theAwellimiden. Their country is wooded and rich in springs. If you reachthe springs at Telemsi, you will finish your journey beneath a canopyof blossoming mimosa. On the other hand, the road from here to Telemsiis shorter than by way of Timissao. It is quite straight."
"Yes, it is direct," I said, "but, in following it, you have to crossthe Tanezruft."
Cegheir-ben-Cheikh waved his hand impatiently.
"Cegheir-ben-Cheikh knows that," he said. "He knows what the Tanezruftis. He who has traveled over all the Sahara knows that he wouldshudder at crossing the Tanezruft and the Tassili from the south. Heknows that the camels that wander into that country either die orbecome wild, for no one will risk his life to go look for them. It isthe terror that hangs over that region that may save you. For you haveto choose: you must run the risk of dying of thirst on the tracks ofthe Tanezruft or have your throat cut along some other route.
"You can stay here," he added.
"My choice is made, Cegheir-ben-Cheikh," I announced.
"Good!" he replied, again opening out the roll of paper. "This trailbegins at the second barrier of earth, to which I will lead you. Itends at Iferouane. I have marked the wells, but do not trust to themtoo much, for many of them are dry. Be careful not to stray from theroute. If you lose it, it is death.... Now mount the camel with thelittle one. Two make less noise than four."
We went a long way in silence. Cegheir-ben-Cheikh walked ahead and hiscamel followed meekly. We crossed, first, a dark passage, then, a deepgorge, then another passage.... The entrance to each was hidden by athick tangle of rocks and briars.
Suddenly a burning breath touched our faces. A dull reddish lightfiltered in through the end of the passage. The desert lay before us.
Cegheir-ben-Cheikh had stopped.
"Get down," he said.
A spring gurgled out of the rock. The Targa went to it and filled acopper cup with the water.
"Drink," he said, holding it out to each of us in turn. We obeyed.
"Drink again," he ordered. "You will save just so much of the contentsof your water skins. Now try not to be thirsty before sunset."
He looked over the saddle girths.
"That's all right," he murmured. "Now go. In two hours the dawn willbe here. You must be out of sight."
I was filled with emotion at this last moment; I went to the Targa andtook his hand.
"Cegheir-ben-Cheikh," I asked in a low voice, "why are you doingthis?"
He stepped back and I saw his dark eyes gleam.
"Why?" he said.
"Yes, why?"
He replied with dignity:
"The Prophet permits every just man, once in his lifetime, to let pitytake the place of duty. Cegheir-ben-Cheikh is turning this permissionto the advantage of one who saved his life."
"And you are not afraid," I asked, "that I will disclose the secret ofAntinea if I return among Frenchmen?" He shook his head.
"I am not afraid of that," he said, and his voice was full of irony."It is not to your interest that Frenchmen should know how the Captainmet his death."
I was horrified at this logical reply.
"Perhaps I am doing wrong," the Targa went on, "in not killing thelittle one.... But she loves you. She will not talk. Now go. Day iscoming."
I tried to press the hand of this strange rescuer, but he again drewback.
"Do not thank me. What I am doing, I do to acquire merit in the eyesof God. You may be sure that I shall never do it again neither for younor for anyone else."
And, as I made a gesture to reassure him on that point, "Do notprotest," he said in a tone the mockery of which still sounds in myears. "Do not protest. What I am doing is of value to me, but not toyou."
I looked at him uncomprehendingly.
"Not to you, Sidi Lieutenant, not to you," his grave voice continued."For you will come back; and when that day comes, do not count on thehelp of Cegheir-ben-Cheikh."
"I will come back?" I asked, shuddering.
"You will come back," the Targa replied.
He was standing erect, a black statue against the wall of gray rock.
"You will come back," he repeated with emphasis. "You are fleeing now,but you are mistaken if you think that you will look at the world withthe same eyes as before. Henceforth, one idea, will follow youeverywhere you go; and in one year, five, perhaps ten years, you willpass again through the corridor through which you have just come."
"Be still, Cegheir-ben-Cheikh," said the trembling voice ofTanit-Zerga.
"Be still yourself, miserable little fly," said Cegheir-ben-Cheikh.
He sneered.
"The little one is afraid because she knows that I tell the truth. Sheknows the story of Lieutenant Ghiberti."
&nbs
p; "Lieutenant Ghiberti?" I said, the sweat standing out on my forehead.
"He was an Italian officer whom I met between Rhat and Rhadames eightyears ago. He did not believe that love of Antinea could make himforget all else that life contained. He tried to escape, and hesucceeded. I do not know how, for I did not help him. He went back tohis country. But hear what happened: two years later, to the very day,when I was leaving the look-out, I discovered a miserable tatteredcreature, half dead from hunger and fatigue, searching in vain for theentrance to the northern barrier. It was Lieutenant Ghiberti, comeback. He fills niche Number 39 in the red marble hall."
The Targa smiled slightly.
"That is the story of Lieutenant Ghiberti which you wished to hear.But enough of this. Mount your camel."
I obeyed without saying a word. Tanit-Zerga, seated behind me, puther little arms around me. Cegheir-ben-Cheikh was still holding thebridle.
"One word more," he said, pointing to a black spot against the violetsky of the southern horizon. "You see the _gour_ there; that is yourway. It is eighteen miles from here. You should reach it by sunrise.Then consult your map. The next point is marked. If you do not strayfrom the line, you should be at the springs of Telemsi in eight days."
The camel's neck was stretched toward the dark wind coming from thesouth.
The Targa released the bridle with a sweep of his hand.
"Now go."
"Thank you," I called to him, turning back in the saddle. "Thank you,Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, and farewell."
I heard his voice replying in the distance:
"_Au revoir_, Lieutenant de Saint Avit."