  Beyond the old Roman well, which had this morning witnessed so strange a tragedy, there lay, as you will remember, a stretch of sandy desert some five miles in extent, beyond which rose the black breccia cliffs of the Hammemat Mountains. It was in a rift of these cliffs that Gege-Merak had established himself. We were proceeding leisurely across the sands and had come near enough to the edge of the mountain to note well its defiles, when our attention was arrested by a strange occurrence. A camel came racing at full speed from the hill path and dashed out upon the flat desert where we rode. For a short distance the beast made straight toward us, and we could see a rider clinging to its back—a huddled up figure dressed in a green and scarlet robe. “It’s Iva!” cried Archie, astonished; and at the same moment the dress also enabled me to recognize the chief’s granddaughter. Even as my friend spoke, the camel swerved and commenced running in a circle, scattering the sand in clouds as it bounded along in great leaps. The girl huddled lower, clinging desperately to her seat as the seemingly infuriated beast continued on its wild career. “Why, the camel’s mad!” I exclaimed, remembering the tales of mad camels I had heard related, and seeing in the animal’s erratic actions the solution of the mystery. There was no doubt of it now. The huge beast ran here and there in an aimless manner, never slacking its terrific speed, but darting first this way and then that, and finally renewing the circular course that was the clearest proof of its crazed condition. Our party had halted involuntarily to watch the strange scene, but I felt that the girl was in serious danger and urged my camel forward without any clear idea of how I could render her assistance. In a moment I found that Archie and Joe had both joined me; pricking our animals to a faster pace we rode straight for the place where the mad camel was performing his capricious pranks. Suddenly the beast stopped—so abruptly that Iva flew over its head and landed in the sand twenty feet or more away. She seemed unhurt by the fall, for instantly she was on her feet and, picking up her skirt, ran toward us with the speed of a deer. At the same time the mad brute’s eye caught the flash of her gaudy robe and, with a loud bellow, he darted after her flying figure. For a second my heart was in my throat. Then I jabbed the pointed stick into the flank of my camel and shouted: “Quick, boys—keep close together and run the beast down!” It was a desperate act, but Iva’s peril was imminent. Even the lion in his jungle is not more terrible to face than a mad camel, and in a few moments the girl might have been trampled into a shapeless mass by the feet of the frenzied animal. Riding so close together that the flanks of the three camels touched, we dashed swiftly on. Iva saw us, and, almost as we were upon her, turned and darted to one side. Her camel had also marked us, but with elevated head and flashing eyes, its hoofs spreading in the air as it bounded along, it made no attempt to pause. Next moment we came together and struck with the force of a catapult, the impact being so great that I sailed skyward and alighted—fortunately on my feet—several yards away. Archie and Joe also took croppers, and as soon as we recovered ourselves we looked toward the camels. They were all in a bunch at first. The mad one was down, and also one of the others, while the remaining two were stamping on them with terrific blows from their powerful feet. It was a camel fight then, sure enough, for it is the instinct of these creatures to destroy one of its kind if it becomes crazed and runs amuck; and Archie’s camel, having tumbled down, would have suffered severely from the indiscriminate attack of its companions had it not found a chance to rise and join them against the real offender. When, finally, the mad one lay crushed and motionless upon the sands, the others quieted down and stood meekly awaiting us to come and remount them. Meantime Ned Britton, who followed close behind us, had leaped down and caught up the terrified girl, and when I looked to see what had become of her I found her seated upon Ned’s steed with our big mate beside her, while he strove to quiet her fears and agitation by smoothing her hair with his rough hand. Heretofore Iva had been sullen and silent, keeping by the side of the old chief, her grandfather, like a shadow and seeming to lack any interest in her surroundings. But now, as we gathered around her with sympathetic faces, she became animated and frank, thanking us very sweetly and with evident gratitude for coming to her rescue. “But how did it happen, Iva?” I asked. “Why did you leave Gege-Merak?” She drew back with a sober look; then, impulsively, she said: “I will tell you all, for Ketti says you are honest and good, and I know my grandfather to be cruel and wicked.” The speech astonished us, but the girl continued, quickly: “Ketti has quarreled with his chief, and he is in disgrace—Ketti, who will be chief after my grandfather dies!” “Will he, Iva?” I asked. “Is Ketti to be the next chief?” “Yes; it is his right,” she answered, proudly; “and that is why Gege-Merak hates him. But Ketti is good, and when he is chief I am to marry him.” “Bravo, Iva!” cried Archie. “Ketti is the best fellow in your gang, to my notion.” “I think so, too,” said I. “But go on with your story, Iva.” “The red-beard offered to give our chief half the treasure he has found if Gege-Merak will kill you all. My grandfather has promised to do so, but the men we brought from Laketa are cowards and do not dare to kill the Americans, and we have not enough men to be sure we will beat you in a fight. So the chief sent me back to our village to get all of the fighting men of our tribe and bring them to join him in yonder valley.” “A very pretty plan,” remarked Uncle Naboth. “That was why Ketti quarreled,” said the girl. “He said you must not be killed, for if we injured you the whole tribe would suffer, and perhaps be destroyed. Ketti does not care for treasure; he says it makes our people thieves and jackals; and he wants to live honestly and in peace, as our forefathers did. There was another thing, too, Effendi. The chief also plots to kill Red-beard, now that he is in our power, and to keep to himself all the treasure. Ketti told my grandfather that was not right, for we had given Red-beard our word, and the word of a Bega chief should be an honest word, and never false.” “It won’t hurt the Perfessor to kill him,” observed Uncle Naboth reflectively. “The dum-sizzled scoundrel deserves several kinds of deaths, as a matter of justice.” Iva did not know how to take this speech, but, after looking at my uncle in grave protest, she continued: “So Ketti was disgraced—he, the bravest of our tribe!—and the chief, my grandfather, commanded me to ride to the village for our warriors, because I could not fight if you attacked him, and I knew well the way. He made me take Sekkat, our swiftest camel, although Sekkat has been acting strangely for two days. There is Sekkat,” she continued, pointing to the crushed remains of the beast that had so nearly destroyed her. “No sooner had I ridden out of the valley where the camp is than I understood that Sekkat was mad. I tried to turn him, and he rushed down the path and out upon the desert. The rest of my story you know, Effendi, and I thank you again for saving my life. Ketti also will thank you,” she continued, with a proud look at us. “But Ketti is disgraced,” I said, smiling. Her eyes flashed at this and her brow grew dark and fierce. “Not for long will Ketti bow to any man’s anger!” she cried. Looking about us with an air imperious as that of any queen, she added: “Come with me, brave AmÊrikÂni! I will show you how to save both Ketti and yourselves, even as you have saved me. More; you shall save Red-beard and his treasure, too.” That last promise was not necessary, but we accepted it with the rest, and that right joyously, as you may imagine. “What is your plan, Iva?” I asked, as we once more put our camels in motion and rode toward the black cliffs of the mountain. “Wait; you will see,” she replied, setting her lips firmly together. So much were we impressed by this girl’s courage and frankly avowed friendship that we followed her lead blindly, questioning her no more. |
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