metal dish, which an instant later he hurled into the dark abyss.
I listened to ascertain its depth. But no sound came back. Ishuddered, for I knew it was unfathomable.
As he faced me in closing the door I detected in his keen eyes a strangeexultant look, and was seized by a sudden desire to ascend once again tothe light of day. True, I could have crushed the life out of him aseasily as I could crush a spider in my fingers, while in my belt was myjambiyah that had a score of times tasted the life-blood of mineenemies, yet he had not harmed me, and to kill one's host is forbiddenby Al-Koran. Therefore I stayed my hand.
As we retraced our steps he poured upon me nauseating adulations,declaring me to be the most valiant sheikh in the Great Desert, andusing the most extravagant simile of which the Arabic tongue is capable,a fact which in itself filled me with increasing suspicion. Suddenly,however, as we reached the chamber where flowed the cooling spring, thetruth was made plain. As he opened the door two officers of the French,in linen garments and white helmets, who had apparently been lying inwait, pounced upon me, uttering loud cries of triumph.
The old white-bearded recluse--may Allah burn his vitals--had betrayedme. He had held me, and sent word to the Franks to come and capturetheir prize--Ahamadou, the chieftain of the Azjar. But in an instant I,upon whose head a price was set, drew my blade and defended myself,slashing vigorously right and left, succeeding at last in escaping downthe dark winding passage through which we had just passed. Forward Idashed through room after room, upsetting some of the tables in my madrush, while behind me were the white-faced officers with drawn swords,determined to take me alive or dead. Well I knew how desperate theywere, and in that instant believed myself lost. Yet, determined to sellmy life dearly, it flashed across my mind that rather than suffer theignominy of being taken in chains to Algiers, the infidel city, andthere tried by the tribunal as others had been, I would cast myself intothe fathomless pit.
I sprang towards the small, low door, but at first could not open it.In a few moments the crafty Ibn Batouba, with the Franks, gained thespot; but I had already unlocked the door and flung it open. Then, justas they put out their hands to seize me, I swung aside, lifted my knife,and struck my evil-faced betrayer full to the heart.
With a piercing shriek he fell forward over the door lintel, and hislifeless body rolled into the awful chasm, while at the same instant Igave a bound, and with a cry of defiance, leaped down into the darknessafter him.
I felt myself rushing through air, the wind whistling in my ears as deepdown I went like a stone in the impenetrable gloom. Those momentsseemed hours, until of a sudden a blow on the back knocked mehalf-insensible, and I found myself a second later wallowing in a bed ofthick, soft dust. Instantly it occurred to me that because this carpetof dust deadened the sound of things pitched into the chasm, the beliefhad naturally arisen that it was unfathomable. I rose, but sank up tothe knees in the soft sand, which, stirred by my fall, half-choked me.Far above, looking distant like a star, I saw the light of a torch. Myinfidel pursuers were peering into the fearsome place in chagrin that Ihad evaded them. The air, however, was hot and foul, and I knew that tosave my life I must be moving; therefore, with both hands outstretched,I groped about, amazed to discover the great extent of this naturalcleft in the earth, formed undoubtedly by some earthquake in a remoteage.
Once I stumbled, and bending, felt at my feet the still warm body of mybetrayer--may Eblis rend him. I drew my jambiyah from his breast, andreplaced it in its sheath. Then, tearing from his body the silken gauzewhich formed his girdle, I fashioned a torch, igniting it after somedifficulty with my steel. Around me was only an appalling darkness, andI feared to test the extent of the place by shouting, lest my pursuersabove should hear. So forward I toiled in a straight line, flounderingat every step in the dust of ages, until the cleft narrowed and becametunnel-like with a hard floor. I stooped to feel it, and was astoundedto discover that the rock had been worn smooth and hollow by the trampof many feet.
Besides, the air had become distinctly fresher, and this fact renewedcourage within me. At first I felt myself doomed to die like a fox in atrap; but with hope reawakened there might, after all, I thought, besome outlet.
Of a sudden, however, there arose before me a colossal female figureseated on a kind of stool, with features so hideous and repulsive that Idrew back with an involuntary cry. It was a score times as high asmyself, and as I hold my torch above my head to examine it, I saw it wasof some white, semi-transparent stone of a kind I had never beforebeheld. The robes were coloured scarlet and bright blue, and the faceand hands were tinted to resemble life. One hand was outstretched. Onthe brow was a chaplet of wonderful pearls, and on the colossal fingers,each as thick as my own wrist, were massive golden rings which sparkledwith gems. But the sinister grinning countenance was indeed that of ahigh-priestess of Eblis.
In amazement I held my breath and gazed about me. Around the sides ofthe cavern were ranged many other smaller female figures, seated likethe central one, and the face of each bore a hideous, repulsive grin, asif in mockery of my misfortunes. Before the great central colossus wasa small triangular stone altar, upon which was some object. I crossed,and glancing at it found to my dismay that it was a beautiful and veryancient illuminated manuscript of our holy Koran. But through it hadbeen thrust a poignard, now red with rust, and it had been torn,slashed, and otherwise defiled.
The truth then dawned upon me that this noisome place into which I hadplunged was actually the abode of the ancient and accursed sect whoworshipped Eblis as their god.
As I gazed wonderingly about me, I saw everywhere evidence that for agesno foot of man had entered that dark silent chamber. The dust ofcenturies lay smooth and untrodden.
Again I passed beneath the ponderous feet of the gigantic statue, whensuddenly my eyes were attracted by an inscription in Kufic, the ancientlanguage of the marabouts, traced in geometrical design upon the hem ofthe idol's garment. My torch had burned dim, so I lit another, and byits flickering rays succeeded in deciphering the following words:--
"Lo! I am Azour, wife of Eblis, and Queen of all Things Beneath theEarth. To me, all bow, for I hold its riches in the hollow of my hand."
I glanced up quickly, and there, far above, I distinguished that in theidol's open palm there lay some object which the fickle flame of mytorch could not reveal. But consumed by curiosity, I at once resolvedto clamber up and ascertain what riches lay there. With extremedifficulty, and holding my flambeau in my left hand, I managed at lengthto reach the platform formed by the knees of the figure, and thenscrambled up the breast and along the outstretched arm. But on mountingthe latter, I was dismayed to discover that the object for which I hadtoiled was neither gold, silver, nor gems, but merely a brown and mouldyparchment scroll. Standing at last upon the open hand, I bent andpicked it up; but in an instant I recognised that my find was ofpriceless value. Ere I had read three lines of the beautifully formedbut sadly faded Arabic characters, I knew that it was none other thanthe long-sought manuscript of the _Fatassi_, the mysterious phantom bookof the Soudan.
I placed my treasure beneath my dissa, and at once proceeded to descend,eager to discover some means of escape from that gloomy cavern, peopledby its hideous ghosts of a pagan past. In frantic haste I sought meansof exit; but not until several hours had elapsed did I succeed inentering a burrow which, leading out into a barren ravine in the desert,had once, no doubt, been used as entrance to the secret temple of thosewho believed not in the One Merciful, but in Eblis and Azour.
After travelling many days, I succeeded in rejoining my people at a spotfour marches from Gao, bearing concealed in my dissa the pricelesshistory of my ancestors, with the minute plans for the recovery of theirhidden treasure. At this moment the _Fatassi_, traced by the hand ofKoti, so long coveted by the Franks, is in my possession; though only totwo of my headmen have I imparted the secret that I have recovered it.
To seek to unearth the ancient treasure
at present would be worse thanuseless, for our conquerors would at once despoil us. But when thegreat Jehad is at last fought, and more peaceful days dawn in theSoudan, then will the secret treasure-houses be opened and the Azjarbecome a power in the land, because of the inexhaustible riches left tothem by their valiant ancestors for the re-establishment of their lostkingdom. Until then, they possess themselves in patience, and trust inthe One.
To thee, O Reader of this my Tarik of toil and tumult, peace.
CHAPTER NINE.
THE FATHER OF THE HUNDRED SLAVES.
Ahamadou, squatting upon his haunches before our camp fire, calmlysmoking his long pipe, related to me the following story, declaring itto be a true incident. All wanderers in the Great Desert, be they Arabsor Touaregs, are born story-tellers, therefore I reproduce the narrativeas he told it. It must be remembered that the Azjars were, at oneperiod--not so very long ago--slavers who made many raids in theprimeval forests south of Lake Tsad, and that Ahamadou himself