  It soon became evident to us that Iva knew this country intimately. She abandoned the clearly outlined entrance to the pass through which we had come on our way from Koser, and led us around to the less promising cliffs at the left. An hour’s ride brought us to a ravine we had not before noticed, and silently we entered this and rode among boulders and loose stones until the steep rocky sides closed in on us and we could proceed no farther. Then we dismounted and picketed our camels. Taking only our rifles and ammunition with us, we followed the Bega girl up a dizzy and difficult path that one would have judged, at first sight, it was impossible to scale. But Iva, mounting light as an antelope, seemed sure of her way, and where she went we could not well hesitate to follow. The perilous climb brought us to the top of the cliff—a rocky ridge, narrow and uneven, with peaks here and there that shot their points still farther toward the sky. Presently the girl paused and looked over the edge, and dropped lightly into a pocket-like hollow of the inner cliff—a place that reminded me of an upper box in a theatre. Here, quite protected from observation, we could look down upon the ravine in which Gege-Merak and his men were encamped. Just beyond the pass we could see the two tall warriors who were guarding its entrance, so we had approached the ravine from the rear. The cunning old chief had chosen his retreat well. On all sides were smooth walls of black breccia, where not even a mountain goat could have found a foothold. Only at the entrance was there any cleft that allowed one to enter or leave the place. The camels stood grouped at one end, and the four panniers containing the treasure of the priests of Karnak had been piled upon a rocky table and were guarded by one of Gege-Merak’s own men. The ravine was perhaps eighty feet wide by some three hundred feet long, and several of the low, spreading Bedouin tents had been pitched just underneath the hollow wherein we lay. The chief and all his company, except the guards I have mentioned, must have been congregated under these tents when we arrived at our point of observation, and for more than an hour we lay there patiently attentive without seeing any evidence of life in the camp below. We supposed that Iva’s adventure was unknown to them, shut in as they were, and doubtless the chief believed her even then to be speeding toward his village to bring back reinforcements of fighting men. But Gege-Merak had no intention of remaining idle in the meantime, as we were soon to observe. For at last the Bega began to stream out of the chief’s tent, and among them came Van Dorn, his arms bound close to his sides and a big warrior now leading, now pushing him along. The Professor seemed weak and unnerved, for he stumbled among the loose stones that littered the way and would have fallen more than once had not his guard steadied him. His head was bare and his clothing torn in many places. Doubtless the fellow had struggled desperately before he had finally been secured. They led Van Dorn to the end of the ravine opposite us and placed him with his back against the rock. The Bega and the Bisharin from Laketa, all animated and talking eagerly in their native tongue, formed a group fifty yards away. Prominent amongst them we could see the dwarfed, withered form of the aged chief, and the stalwart, towering figure of Ketti. Gege-Merak gave an order and a man stepped forward and leveled his rifle at the Professor. Before he could fire, Van Dorn shrieked in terror and dropped to the ground. They raised him again, cuffing and shaking him until once more he stood upright. Yet he trembled visibly. Again the Bega warrior raised his rifle, but, answering the victim’s pitiful screams, Ketti now sprang before the man and wrenched away his weapon, protesting so loudly that his voice reached even to our high nest on the cliff against the deed the chief had ordered. Gege-Merak fairly danced with rage at this defiance. He gave a command which at first his men seemed reluctant to execute, but finally two of them approached Ketti, seized him and drew him away, binding his arms to his sides. Iva was frantic at this act, and we had to warn her several times to be quiet or we should surely be discovered by those below. It was while I was busy soothing Iva that I heard a shot and a cry of agony, and turned in time to see Van Dorn fall flat upon his face. Poor fellow, the treasure had cost him his life. However treacherous he had been in his dealings with Lovelace, with Abdul Hashim and with us, his final alliance with old Gege-Merak had brought him into contact with a nature as unscrupulous as his own, and the barbaric chief had evened up all scores by robbing the man of his ill-gotten wealth and his life at once. But it seemed that Gege-Merak’s vengeance was not yet complete, and we could see from the tense and strained attitudes of the warriors that Van Dorn’s death was but an incident in the drama. If, indeed, the chief had cause to hate Ketti, that young man’s rash interference with his commands had given Gege-Merak the chance, perhaps long desired, to punish him. It may be he lived in fear of the handsome fellow who was destined to succeed him at his death, for Ketti’s popularity with the tribe was indisputable. Anyway, his orders, now given in a firm, loud voice, seemed instantly to seal the fate of Iva’s lover. Bound and helpless as he was, the young man was led to the spot where Van Dorn had stood and set with his back against the wall of rock. But there was no craven spirit in the victim this time. Proudly the warrior stood facing his chief, his pose erect, his dark eyes calmly regarding his destroyer and a slight smile of scorn curling his lips. Gege-Merak shouted his commands, but not a tribesman moved to obey. Softly Iva reached out her hand and grasped my repeating rifle, and I let her take it. She knelt before me, her brown face rigid, her eyes dark with horror, and rested the barrel on the ledge of rock before her. I saw Uncle Naboth and Ned glance at each other significantly; but they made no move to interfere. Again and again the chief shouted his orders, waving his arms imperiously and stamping his foot in rage; but the Bega stood stolid and unyielding, and their Bisharin allies shrank back and huddled in a frightened group in the rear. Gege-Merak himself snatched a rifle from a warrior’s hand and swinging around leveled it full at Ketti. At the same instant Iva’s rifle cracked beside me and I saw the aged chief totter, drop his weapon and sink slowly to the earth. A shout went up from the assembled group below, and with one impulse they turned their eyes toward us. And now the girl sprang upon the dizzy ledge and stood where all might see her figure clearly outlined against the sky. High above her head she held the rifle that had slain her wicked grandsire, and as the Bega recognized her they shouted again—joyfully this time—and waved their hands to her in full approval of her act. I own I was horrified for a moment, remembering the ties of blood between Iva and Gege-Merak; but she was a wild, half-civilized child of the desert, and to her simple mind her lover’s life must be preserved at any cost. All was eager animation in the ravine. Ketti’s bonds were quickly removed, and the big fellow waved his thanks to the sweetheart whose courage had saved him. “Come,” said Iva, calmly, as she stepped down to a safer position beside us. “There are only friends in Ketti’s tribe now; let us go to him.” |
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