Read The Eye of Zeitoon Page 11


  Chapter Eleven"That man's dose is death, and he dies unshriven!"

  "MALE AND FEMALE CREATED HE THEM"

  The ancient orders pass. The fetters fall.All-potent inspiration stirs dead peoples to new birth.And over bloodied fields a new, clear callRings kindlier on deadened ears of earth.Man--male--usurping--unwise overlord,Indoctrinated, flattered, by himself betrayedAnd all-betraying since with idiot wordHe bade his woman bear and be afraid,Awakes to see delusion of the pastUnmourned along with all injustice die,Himself by woman wisdom blessed at lastAnd her unchallenged right the reason why.

  Now for a moment I became the unwilling vortex of that mob of anxiousmen and women--I who by, my own confession knew Kagig, I who hadsent Kagig a message, I who five minutes ago was on the verge ofbeing hanged in the greasy noose that still swung above the ladderthrough the hole in the roof--I who therefore ought to be thoroughlyplastic-minded and obedient to demands.

  The place had become as evil smelling as the Black Hole of Calcutta.Everybody was sweating, and they shoved and milled murderously inthe effort to get near me and learn, each with his own ears frommy lips, just when Kagig might be expected. Ephraim, their presumptiveleader, got shuffled to the outside of the pack--the only silentman between the four walls, watchful for new opportunity.

  With my clothing nearly torn off and cars in agony from bellowedquestions, the only remedy I could think of was to yell to Fred tostart up a tune on his concertina; I had seen him change a crowd'stemper many a time in just that way. But even supposing my advicehad been good, he could not get his arms free, and it was GloriaVanderman who saved that day.

  Whoever has tried to write down the quality that makes the collegegirl, United States or English, what she is has failed, just as whoeverhas tried to muzzle or discredit her has failed. She is somethingnew that has happened to the world, not because of men and womenand the priests and pundits, but in spite of them. Part of the reasoncan be given by him who knows history enough, and commands almostunlimited leisure and page; but that would only be the uninterestingpart that we could easily dispense with. The college girl has happenedto the world, as light did in Genesis 1:3.

  Gloria Vanderman, with her back against the wall, struggled andcontrived to get her foot on Will's bent knee. Another strugglesent her breast-high above the sea of sweating faces. There wasfitful light enough to see her by, because the man who held a pinetorch was privileged. If there had not been hot sparks scatteringfrom the thing doubtless they would have closed in on him and crushedit down, and out, but he had elbow-room, and accordingly Gloria'sface glowed golden in its frame of disordered chestnut hair. Oneheard her voice because it was clear, and sweet with reasonableness,so that it vibrated in an unobstructed orbit.

  "Surely you are not cowards?" she began, and they grew silent, becausethat idea called for consideration.

  "Kagig is a patriot. Kagig is fighting for all Armenia. Surelyyou are not the men to let brave Kagig be tempted away from his postof danger at Zeitoon? If I know you men and women you will hastento meet Kagig, taking your food, and weapons, and children with you.You will hurry--hurry--hurry to meet him--to meet him as near Zeitoonas possible, so as to turn him back to his post of duty!"

  Then Ephraim saw his chance. Some whisperer translated to him andhe owned a voice that was worth gold for political purposes.

  He took up the tale in Armenian, working himself up into a splendidfervor, and so amplifying the argument that he could almost fairlyclaim it as his own before he was half-done. She had introducedthe light, but he exploited it, and he knew his nation--knew thetricks of speech most likely to spur them into action.

  Within five minutes they were shoving the stones off the trap atimminent risk of anybody's legs, and the ladder bent groaning underthe weight of twice as many as it ought to bear, as half of themessayed the short cut over the roof. A blast of sweet air throughthe opened trap ejected most of the smoky ten-times-breathed stuffout with the climbers; and as the room emptied and we wiped thegrimy sweat from our faces I heard Will talking to Gloria Vandermanin a new tongue--new, that is to say, to the old world.

  "Good goods! Stampeded 'em! They'll vote for you for any office--yourpick! If that guy Ephraim plans buttering the slide we'llset him on it--watch!"

  "You bet," she answered sentimentally. "I wasn't cheer leader fornothing. Besides, I delivered the valedictory--say, what are wewaiting here for?"

  "Come on, then!" I urged her. "We'll leave our mule-load behindin case they've eaten your horse. Come with us to the stables and--"

  But she interrupted me.

  "You men go down and get the horses. Do what you can with the crowd.I'll get the women into something like order if that's possible,and we'll all meet wherever there's open ground and moonlight atthe foot of the hill."

  "I'll come with you," Will proposed. "You'll need--"

  "No you won't! The women are easy. They've been taught to obeyorders! It'll take all the wit you three men own between you toget the men in line! Let's get busy!"

  The men had treated the hanging blankets with the respect the ancientJews accorded to the veil of the Holy of Holies. (We learned afterwardthat there was an Armenian man of the party who had followed a circusone summer all across the States, and had brought that sensibleprecaution home with him as rule number one for successful managementof mixed assemblies.) Gloria Vanderman made a run for the curtainand dived behind it. We heard the women welcome her.

  "Let's go!" said Will.

  Will had ever been our ladies' man in all our wanderings, becausewomen could never resist his unaffected comradeship. Even amongAmericans he was rare in his gift of according to women equalitynot only of liberty, but of understanding and good sense, and itwent like wine to the heads of some we had met, so that Will wasseldom without a sex-problem on his hands and ours. But Will wastoo good a comrade to be surrendered to any woman lightly.

  "Damn that chicken!" murmured Fred by way of praying fervently, pausingin the breach in the wall to rub his shin. "Feel that bruise, willyou! No young woman ever brought me luck yet!"

  "What are you waiting for?" complained a voice from outer darkness."Come on, you rummies!"

  Fred sat down on the protruding stone that had injured his shin,and detained me with his arm across the opening.

  "Mark my words! In order that that young woman may be educated toconsider Will Yerkes a paragon of unimaginable virtues, we--you andI--are going to have to do what he calls 'hustle.' We're going tosee speed, and we're going to sweat, trying to catch up. There isn'ta scatterbrained adventure conceivable that we're not going to beforced into, nor an imaginable peril that we're not going to haveto pull him out of. We're going to be cursed for our trouble, andridiculed to make amusement for her majesty. And at the end of itall we're going to be patronized for a couple of ignorant damnedfools who don't know better than be bachelors. What's worse, we'regoing to submit tamely. What is infinitely worse, we're going tolike it! There are times when I doubt the sanity of my whole sex!"

  "Have you guys taken root?" demanded the familiar voice and we heardWill's returning footsteps.

  "No, America. But I have to sit down when my shin hurts and I'mseized with the gift of prophecy."

  "Huh! We'll find Miss Vanderman tired of waiting for us with thewomen. Since when has a crack on the shin made a baby of you? Youused to be tough enough!"

  "D'you get the idea?" chuckled Fred. "We're coming, Will, we'recoming."

  Perfectly unconsciously Will took the lead, and most outrageouslyhe drove us. Not that his driving was not shrewd, for his usuallypractical and quick mind seemed to take on added brilliancy. Andsince we first joined partnership--he and Monty and Fred and I--wehad always been contented to follow the lead of whichever held itat the moment. But there was new efficiency, and impatience of abrand-new kind that would not rest until every man and animal hadbeen rummaged in darkness out of that old ruin, and men, horses,cows, goats, bags of grain, and fifty cases
of cartridges were drivendown through the forest like water forced through a sieve, and weregathered in the only open space discoverable.

  There we cooled our heels, fearful and full of vague imaginings untilMiss Vanderman should bring the women, not at all encouraged by shoutsin the distance that well might be the exulting of plundering Kurds,nor by occasional rifle-shots that sounded continually nearer, norby the angry crimson glow of burning roofs that lighted halfthe horizon.

  We waited an hour, Will objecting whenever either of us proposedto return and speed Miss Vanderman.

  "Aw, what's the use? D'you suppose she doesn't know we're waiting?"

  At last Fred proposed that Will himself go and investigate. He wentthrough the form of demurring, but yielded gracefully.

  "The spirit," Fred chuckled, "is weak, and the flesh is willing!"

  Will handed his mule's reins to an Armenian and started alone up-hillthrough the pitch-dark forest; and because the world is mixed ofunexpectedness and grim jest in fairly equal proportions, five minutesafter he left us Gloria Vanderman came leading the women byanother path.

  To avoid confusion with our part, and for sake of silence, she hadled them a circuit, and except for the occasional wail of a childand a little low talking that blended like the hum of insects withthe night, they made very little noise. The rear was brought upby the strongest women carrying the sick and wounded on litters thathad been improvised in a hurry, and like most things ofthe sort were much too heavy.

  "Your mule is ready," said I. But she shook her head.

  "You gentlemen must give your mules up to the sick and wounded.We well ones can walk."

  I did not know how to answer her, although I knew she was wrong.The way to organize a marching column is not to level down to theability of the weakest, although the pace of the weakest may haveto be the measure of speed. We, who had to protect the column andshepherd it, would need our mounts; without them we should all beat the mercy of any enemy, with no corresponding gain to any oneexcept the litter-bearers. All the same, I did not care to takeissue with that capable young woman then and there. She would haveput me in the wrong and left me speechless and indignant, after thefashion that is older than poor Shylock's tale.

  But Fred is made of sterner stuff than I, and was never above amusinghimself at the expense of anybody's dignity.

  "Will is the youngest," he answered. "Besides, he's keeping us allwaiting with his love-affairs! He ought to be made to walk!"

  "His love-affairs?"

  "He went into the woods to see a woman," Fred answered imperturbably."Let him forfeit his mule. Here he comes. Did you find her, America?"

  Will emerged out of gloom with a grin on his face.

  "Just my luck!" he said simply. "What are we waiting for? I canhear the Kurds. Let's start."

  At that Gloria got excited.

  "D'you mean you're willing to leave a woman behind alone in thatforest?" she demanded, and Will's jaw dropped.

  Fred nudged my ribs.

  "Come on! We've given 'em a ground for their first quarrel. They'llnever thank us if we wait a week. Mount! Walk--ride!"

  We sent our two Zeitoonli in advance to show the way. True to hisword, Arabaiji had left us, mule and all, and we missed him as westrove to get the unwieldy column marshaled and moving in line.We did not see Will and Gloria again that night, except when theypassed between us, walking, arguing--Will explaining--we sittingon our mules on either side of the track until the last of the swarmtailed by. Then we brought up the rear together, to drive the stragglersand look out for pursuit.

  "Not that I know what the devil we'll do if the Kurds get after us!"said Fred.

  "Let's hope they make for the castle to-night, and waste time plunderingthat."

  "Piffle!" he answered.

  "Why?"

  "Because, you ass, if they get to the place and find if empty they'lldeduce, being less than idiots, that we're not far off and that we'reat their mercy in the open! Let's hope to God they funk attackingin the dark, and wait out of range of the walls until daylight.In that case we've a chance. Otherwise--I've still got six riflecartridges, and four for my pistol. How many have you?"

  "Six of each."

  "Then you owe me one for my pistol."

  I passed it to him.

  "So. Now we're good for exactly twenty-two Kurds between us. Ifwe're pursued I propose to give those two young lovers a chance bymaking every cartridge count from behind cover."

  "They'd hear the shooting and--"

  "Not if we drop far enough behind."

  "They'd hear shooting and Will, at any rate, would ride back."

  "He couldn't! He'd have to look after the girl and the column."

  "All the same--Will's--"

  "I know he is. Very well. I'll arrange it another way. You waitbehind here."

  So I rode along slowly, and he spurred his horse to a trot. Buthe did not hold the trot long. I could hear him objurgating, coaxing,encouraging, explaining, and the shrill voices of women answering,as he tried at one and the same time to pass the unfortunates inthe dark and to make them see the grim necessity for speed. SoonI grew as busy as he, bullying litter-bearers and mothers burdenedwith crying babies. In times of massacre and war, survivors arenot necessarily those who enjoyed the best of it. Nearly-drownedmen brought to life again would forego the process if the choicewere theirs, and there were nearly twenty women who would have preferreddeath to that night's march. But I did not dare load my horse withbabies, since it would likely be needed before dawn for sterner work.

  It was more than an hour before Fred loomed in sight again, standingbeside his horse in wait for me. He, too, had resisted the temptationto relieve mothers of their living loads (not that they ever expected it).

  "How did you manage?" I asked, for I could tell by his air that theerrand had been successful.

  "I lied to him."

  "Of course. What did you say?"

  "Said if the straggling got bad you and I might fall a long way behindand fire our pistols, so as to give the impression Kurds are in pursuit.That would tickle up the rear-end to a run!"

  "And he believed that?" Will knew as well as I Fred's not exactlysubtle way of maneuvering to get the post of greatest danger for himself.

  "He'd have believed anything! He's head-, heart-and heels-over-endin love with the girl, and she's as bad as he is. They're talkingpolitical economy and international jurisprudence. When I reached'em they'd just arrived at the conclusion that the United Statescan save the world, maybe--maybe not, but nothing else can. I wasdecidedly de trop. They're pretty to watch. No, he hasn't kissedher yet--you could tell that even in the dark. It's my belief hewon't for a long time; America's way with women is beyond belief.They're telling each other all they know, and like, and dislike,and believe, and hope. It 'ud take a bullet to divide their destinies.I delivered my message, and they were so devilish polite you'd thinkI was the parson come to marry 'em. They'd forgotten my very existence.When it dawned on 'em who I was they were so keen to be rid of methey'd have agreed to anything at all. So it was easy."

  "Good."

  "No, it's bad. Will's a friend of mine. I hate to see him squanderedon a woman. However, I did better than that."

  "How so?"

  As I spoke there loomed out of the darkness just ahead of us eightmen surrounding something on the track, their rifles sticking upabove their shoulders.

  "I've found eight men with rifles all alike that fit the ammunitionin the boxes. It's stolen Turkish government ammunition, by theway. The rifles come from the same source. The point is that aman caught with a stolen government rifle and ammunition in hispossession would be tortured. Incidentally the men seem game.Therefore, if we have to fight a rear-guard action we can reasonablycount on them. Haide!" he called to the eight men, and they pickedup the case of cartridges, and resumed the march just ahead of us.

  Fred lit his pipe contentedly, as he always is contented when hecan
make satisfactory arrangements to sacrifice himself unselfishlyand pretend to himself he is a cynic. Whether because the armedguard of their own people put new courage in them, or because riflesat their rear made them more afraid, the stragglers gave less troublefor the next few hours. Perhaps they were growing more used to themarch, and some of them were numb with anxiety, while not so wearyyet that feet would not carry them forward.

  Somewhere in advance a man with a high tenor voice began to singa wild folk-song, of the sort that is common to all countries whoseheritage is hope unstrangled. He and others like him with love andmusic in their brave hearts sang the tortured column through itsnight of agony, keeping alive faint hope that hell must have an end.Dawn broke sweet and calm. For it makes no matter if a nation writhesin agony, or man wreaks hate on man, the wind and the sky still whisperand smile; and the scent of wild flowers is not canceled by thestench of tired humanity.

  Fred knocked his pipe out and rode to the top of shoulder of rockbeside the track, beckoning to me to follow. We could see our column,astonishingly long drawn, winding like a line of ants in and outand over, following the leaders in a dream because there seemed nothingelse to do or dream about. Once I thought I caught sight of Willon his horse, passing between trees, but I was not sure. Fred turnedhis horse about and looked in the direction we had come from. Presently,he nudged me.

  "That smoke might be the castle we were in last night. See--it'sred underneath. What'll you bet me Kurds don't show up in pursuitbefore the day's an hour old?"

  That was nothing to bet about, and that kind of dawn is not the hourfor roseate optimism.

  "If they come," said I, "I hope I don't live to see what they'lldo to the women."

  Fred met my eyes and laughed.

  "That's all right," he said. "You ride on. This rock commands thetrack. I'll follow later when pursuit's called off."

  "Ride on yourself!" I answered, and he chuckled as he lighted hispipe again.

  One of the men had a kerosene can filled with odds and ends of personalbelongings. I turned them out in a hollow of the rock, and senthim to fill the can with drinking water at a spring. Then Fred andI chose stations, and Fred went to vast pains lecturing every oneof us on how to keep cover. We had nothing to eat, and thereforeno notion of putting up anything but a short fight. Our best pointwas the surprise that unexpected, organized resistance would be likelyto produce on plundering Kurds.

  It was pleasant enough where we lay, and reminded both of us of farless strenuous days. The little animals that are always curiousto the point of their undoing came out and investigated our tracksas soon as the noise of the stragglers had ceased. The Armenianstook no notice of the wild life; persecuted people seldom do, havingtheir own hard case too much in mind; but Fred knew the name ofnearly every bird and animal that showed itself, and even ceasedsmoking as his interest increased.

  "Ever go fishing as a boy?" he asked.

  "Didn't I!"

  "Get up before daylight and escape from the house by the back way--"

  "Stealing bread and cheese from the pantry on the way out--"

  "And stopping where the grass was long near the watering place todig worms--"

  "And unchain the dog with frantic efforts to keep him from barking--"

  "Yes, but the rascal always would do it--bark and wake everybody!Lucky if nobody saw you as you slipped through the gate into the fields!"

  "Ah! But then what a time the dog had--it was almost as good funas the fishing to watch him scamper. And how hungry he got--andhe ate more than his share of the bread and cheese, so that you'dhave had to go home early because of the aching void if it hadn'tbeen for the cottage where they gave a fellow milk out of a brown dish."

  "Yumm! Didn't that country milk taste good! Snff--snff--they weremornings just like this at home when I went fishing. Cool and sweetand full of scent. Snff--snff!"

  We sat still behind the ledge and let the air and scenery revivekind memories. The only noise was what our horses made croppingthe grass in a hollow behind us, for the Armenians were well contentto ruminate. Most likely they would have fallen asleep if we hadnot been there to keep an eye on them, for prolonged subjection totoo much fear is soporific, so that tortured poor wretches sleepon the tightened rack.

  I was very nearly asleep myself, having had practically none of itfor two nights in succession, and had taken to watching the horsesto keep my mind busy, when the movement of my horse's ears struckme as peculiar. Presently he ceased grazing and raised his head.I thought he was going to whinny, and turned to see Fred squintingdown his rifle at something that was not in the range of my vision.

  "Here they come!" he whispered.

  As he spoke a Kurd stepped out from between the trees, and we couldsee that he had tied his horse to a branch in the gloom behind him.He had the long sleeves reaching nearly to the ground peculiar tohis race, and the unmistakable sheeny nose and cruel lips. Fromthe rifle that he carried cavalierly over his shoulder hung a woman'sundergarment, with a dark stain on it that looked suspiciously likeblood. My horse whinnied then, and his beast answered. At thathe brought his rifle to the "ready" and nearly jumped out of his skin.

  "I'm judge, jury, witness, prosecutor and executioner!" Fred whispered."That man's dose is death, and he dies unshriven!"

  Then he fired, and Fred could not miss at that range if he tried.The Kurd clapped a hand to his throat and fell backward, and oneof our Armenians ran before we could stop him to seize the tied horse,and any other plunder. One of the things he brought back with him,besides the horse and rifle and ammunition belt, was a woman's fingerwith the ring not yet removed. He said he found it in thecartridge pouch.

  In proof that organized defense was the last thing they reckonedon, nine more Kurds came galloping down the track pell-mell towardthe place where they had heard the solitary rifle-shot, doubtlesssupposing their own man had come upon the quarry. We fired too fast,for the Armenians were not drilled men, but we dropped two horsesand five Kurds, and the remaining four fled, with the riderless animalsstampeding in their wake.

  "What next?"' said I, as Fred wiped out his rifle-barrel.

  "They'll return in greater force. We'd better change ground. D'younotice how this rock is covered by that other one a quarter of amile to the right? Higher ground, too, and the last place they'lllook--come on!"

  The man with the water-can spilled it all, for the sake of his medleyof possessions, and I had to send him all the way back for more.But we took up our new stand at last with the horses well hiddenand enough to drink to last the day out, and then had to wait halfan hour before any Kurds came back to the attack.

  They came on the second time with infinite precaution, lurking amongthe trees on the outskirts of the clearing and firing several randomshots at our old position in the hope of drawing our fire. Finally,they emerged from the forest thirty strong and rushed our supposedhiding-place at full gallop.

  They were not even out of pistol range. Fred used the Mauser rifletaken from the dead Kurd, and then we both emptied our pistols atthe fools, the Armenians meanwhile keeping up a savage independentfire so ragged and rapid that it might have been the battle of Waterloo.

  The Kurds never knew whether or not we were another party or thefirst one. They never discovered whether our former post was desertedor not. We never knew how many of them we hit, for after about adozen had tumbled out of the saddle the remainder galloped for theirlives. For minutes afterward we heard them crashing and poundingaway in the distance to find their friends.

  Our loot consisted of two wounded prisoners and four good horses,in addition to rifles and cartridges. We let the dead lie wherethey were for a warning to other scoundrels, and we looked on whileour Armenians searched the bodies for anything likely to be of slightestuse. They found almost nothing originally Kurdish, but more Armeniantrinkets than would have stocked a traveling merchant's show-case,including necklaces and earrings.

  Fred took the two prisoners aside
and in Persian, which every Kurdcan understand and speak after a fashion, offered them their choicebetween telling the whole truth or being handed over to Armenians.And as there isn't a bloody rascal in the world but suspects hisintended victims of worse hankerings than his own, they loosed theirtongues and told more than the truth, adding whatever they thoughtlikely to please Fred.

  "They say there were only about fifty of them in this raiding partyto begin with, and several came to trouble before they met us. Seemsthere are Armenians hidden here and there who are able to give anaccount of themselves. Ten or twelve elected to stay near the castlewe were in last night. They've burned it, but they have some capturedwomen and propose to enjoy themselves. Shall we ride back and breakin on the party?"

  He meant what he said, but it was out of the question. "The partywe've just trounced will give the alarm," I objected. "We'd onlyride into a trap. Besides, you've no proof these prisoners are notlying to you."

  "They say their raiding party is the only one within thirty miles.They rode ahead of the regiments to get first picking."

  "We're none of us fit for anything but food and sleep," said I, andFred had to concede the point.

  Fortunately the food problem was solved for the moment by the Kurds,who had a sort of cheese with them whose awful taste deprived oneof further appetite. We ate, and tied our two wounded prisonerson one horse; and as we had nothing to treat their wounds with exceptwater they finished their trip in exquisite discomfort. Surprisethat we should attend to their wounds at all, added to their despondencyafter they had time to consider what it meant. There was only oneburden to their lamentation:

  "What are you going to do with us? We will tell what we know! Wewill name names! We are your slaves! We kiss feet! Ask, and wewill answer!"

  They thought they were being kept alive for torture, and we let themkeep on thinking it. Fred tied their horse to his own saddle andtowed them along, singing at the top of his lungs to keep the restof us awake; and for all his noise I fell asleep until he reachedfor his concertina and, the humor of the situation dawning on him,commenced a classic of his own composition, causing the morning tore-echo with irreverence, and making all of us except the prisonersaware of the fact that life is not to be taken seriously, even inArmenia. The prisoners intuitively guessed that the song had referenceto ways and means they would rather have forgotten.

  "Ow! My name it is 'orrible 'Enery 'Emms,And I 'ails from a 'ell of a 'ole!The things I 'ave thought an' the deeds I 'ave didAre remarkable lawless an' better kep' hid,So if Morgan you think of, an' Sharkey an' Kidd,Forget 'em! To name such beginners as them'sAn insult, so shivver my soul! Yow!In every port o' the whole seven seasI 'ave two or three wives on the rates,For I'm free wi' my fancy an' fly wi' my picks,And I've promised 'em plenty, an' given 'em nix,But have left ev'ry one in a 'ell of a fix!'Ooever said Bluebeard was brother to me'sEither jealous or misunderstates!

  "Wow! For awful atrocity, murder an' theft,For battery, arson and hate,From breakin' the Sabbath to coveting cows,An' false affidavits an' perjurin' vows,I'm adept at whatever the law disallows,And the gallowsmen gape at the noose that I left,For I flit while the bally fools wait!"

  Fred kept us awake all right. Like most of his original songs, thatone had sixty or seventy verses.