Chapter 18

KETTI PROVES A FRIEND.

As hastily as might be we groped our way down the dangerous pathway to the ground below the cliffs. There we regained our camels and made for the desert, around the spur of the mountain, and so up the regular trail to the mouth of the ravine.

Ketti was eagerly awaiting us, and as she saw him Iva quickly rode forward and threw herself from her camel to crouch with bowed head before the new chief.

Coming to her side, Ketti raised her gently and, while we watched with curiosity from one side and the assembled Bega watched from the other, the young warrior gravely placed one hand beneath Iva’s chin, palm upward, and the other hand upon her head, palm down.

This, we learned afterward, was the betrothal ceremony of the Bega. When a young man chose his bride he went to her and took her chin and head between his palms, and thus made claim to her for all time. None other dared afterward make advances to the girl, under penalty of incurring her affianced youth’s anger. Indeed, I was told this was frequently the only ceremony performed at all, whether of betrothal or marriage, by many of the tribes, although there was a form of native wedding that included various and lengthy rites and involved much feasting and dancing.

The girl, it seems to me, has not a fair chance in this custom, for she is not allowed to refuse a man who so salutes her. It is true a brother or father may challenge a presumptuous warrior and fight him to the death, but the girl herself is helpless.

I am sure Ketti and Iva had an elaborate wedding ceremony thereafter; but that is not a part of my story, from which I fear I have digressed.

Feeling quite safe with the friendly Ketti, we had no hesitation in following him and his band into the ravine, where we dismounted and went at once to examine the body of Van Dorn. He was quite dead, having been shot through the heart, and Ned Britton lifted him and bore him to one of the low tents, of which Ketti willingly gave us the use. Gege-Merak’s body still lay upon its face where it had fallen, and to my surprise none of the natives touched it or even so much as glanced toward it, so far as I could see.

In the tent, Ned and one of the sailors searched Van Dorn’s clothing and removed from it the leathern belt, his rings and watch and a small note-book. Last they found, sewn into the lining of his well-worn coat, a package, rather bulky, though flat, covered with goat-skin, tied and sewn securely and carefully sealed. These things I took possession of, and Uncle Naboth and I went to see Ketti to get permission to bury the body.

We found the young chief seated on a rock beside Iva, with whom he was conversing most earnestly. He smiled at us as we came up, and said:

“We have made changes, Effendi. I am now chief.”

“So I understand, Ketti,” I answered, “and I’m glad of it. We are friends with the Bega now, are we not?”

“We are friends,” he announced, gravely. “Gege-Merak was bad, and had no love for you. He loved treasure better, and killed the Red-beard to get it all. But Ketti does not want his brothers’ wealth. It is enough that you have paid the Bega to guide and protect you.”

“Do you mean that you will return to us the treasure?” I asked, striving to conceal my astonishment.

“It is not Ketti’s. It was not Gege-Merak’s. It is yours,” he said, simply. “My tribe shall not rob, nor shall they slay their friends. While I am chief, the Bega who call me master must be honest and good, and keep the laws the great Khedive has made. Is it not so, Iva?”

“It is the only way for our tribe to prosper and grow in strength,” she answered, soberly. “Under our great and good Chief Ketti we will be rich and strong, and our father the Khedive will call us good children.”

“You shall say, when you return to Koser,” continued Ketti, regarding us earnestly, “that my tribe was true and honest, and touched not one jewel of your treasure. You will say that we guided you straight and protected you from enemies and thieves and earned your money well. Is it so, Effendi?”

“We will say that, Ketti,” I replied.

“But there are also things which you will not say, Effendi,” he continued, with a note of anxiety in his voice.

“And what are they, my friend?”

“You will not say my people killed the Red-beard; for you do not know what killed him. You will not say where he is gone, for that you do not know. Is not the land broad for men to wander in? And if any asks you about Gege-Merak you will be sorrowful and tell how he died in the desert, being old and feeble, and you will say that Ketti succeeded him as chief of the tribe. Then you will mount the great ship that awaits you and sail away.”

I began to understand. Ketti intended to make a bargain with us. He feared the consequences of the murder of Van Dorn and did not want the fact that Iva had shot her grandfather known. If we would promise to be discreet in these matters he would restore to us the treasure, which he considered another element of danger to him, not realizing that we were slyly removing it in defiance of the Khedive’s orders. Had he known that—but, fortunately, he did not know it.

“It shall be as you say, Chief Ketti,” I returned; “for we wish you and Iva only happiness, and to tell some things might cause you trouble. If your father the Khedive asks us of your service, we will say you are a good chief, and faithful.”

That pleased him greatly.

“The treasure is untouched,” said he. “Not a seal is broken. It awaits your orders, Effendi.”

Willingly he gave us permission to bury the Professor among the rocks, which we did during the afternoon. When we returned to the ravine from this labor we were surprised to notice that in our absence the natives had gathered several heaps of stones, which were piled in the form of a wide circle around Gege-Merak’s body. But the body itself had not been disturbed, and the Bega were now lounging in various parts of the ravine and conversing together in their customary indifferent manner.

Ketti came to us with the information that we should start at dawn next morning for Koser, which he hoped to reach in two days’ fast riding.

“But what will you do with Gege-Merak?” I inquired.

“His ceremony of entombment will be held this evening, Effendi. Your people will be welcome to watch the solemn rites,” he added.

We had supper and awaited with curiosity to witness the proposed ceremony; but the natives were in no hurry, and showed no activity until the stars were bright in the sky.

At a word from Ketti, every Bega and Bisharin sprang up and stood in a circle around the dead chief’s body. Beginning a low chant they now commenced to move slowly around Gege-Merak, keeping step to the chant and bending in lithe, rhythmic attitudes characteristic of the Eastern dances. And ever the chorus grew louder and faster until it became a roar and at last a wild shout. Also the excitement of the warriors increased until presently they were dancing with frenzied leaps.

Suddenly, as they circled round just beside the piles of rock, each man seized a stone from the nearest heap and hurled it at the dead body. From the next pile he grabbed another stone, until the missiles were raining upon Gege-Merak’s prostrate form from every direction. As the dance reached its climax of animation and the shower of rock continued, the old chief’s body began to disappear from sight, until he was covered up entirely and entombed in a mound of stone several feet in height.

It was a shocking sight, and seemed to us extremely brutal; but Iva, who stood by our side, calmly declared it was the custom of her people, and that a chief was highly honored who was thus buried by his people where he fell or expired. The chant, she told us, was a relation of his virtues and his mighty deeds on earth.

If a chief dies or is killed on the desert, his people cast sand upon him, in like manner, and afterward weight the mound with rocks; and, as his body is never moved from the spot where he expired, they take down his tent or house after the funeral and set up the habitation in another place, leaving his burial mound stationary.

The wild chant rang in my ears long after the grim ceremony was completed and the camp had become quiet for the night. We Americans slept uneasily through the next few hours and at dawn awoke to eat a hasty breakfast and mount our camels.

The panniers were replaced on the two extra animals by Ned and Bryonia, who now took charge of the treasure. We were pleased to observe the truth of Ketti’s statement that the wax upon the buckles of the panniers had not been tampered with and was still intact.

The Bisharin left us here and went away to their village, and without incident we traversed the trail back to Koser, which we reached, weary but exultant, at the close of the second day.

My father and a number of sailors, apprised by a swift messenger of our coming, were at the wooden dock to meet us, and we unstrapped the four treasure-laden panniers from the saddles of the camels and sent them on board by a boat commanded by Ned in person.

Captain Steel produced the hundred and eighty pounds due to Ketti for his services, according to the contract we had made with Gege-Merak, and I asked that an extra gold piece be given to each of the Bega warriors, which was willingly agreed to since we had been successful in our quest. It made the simple fellows very happy indeed.

After consulting with Uncle Naboth and gaining his consent, I opened the Professor’s leathern belt and took from it the prettiest jewel it contained, a diadem of yellow gold set with clusters of pearls and sapphires. This I presented to Iva as a wedding present from her American friends, and the beautiful girl was proud indeed of the gift, as well she might be. Once, perhaps, it had adorned the brow of some famous Egyptian queen, and though it might now appear incongruous upon the person of a poor Bega woman, we were so grateful to Iva for the service she had rendered us that we thought it none too good to express our appreciation.

We parted from Ketti and his people in the mostly friendly manner, and he returned that night to his village in the desert.

It was not so easy to get rid of the bearded Arab sheik of Koser, who was curious to know what we had brought from Luxor and what adventures we had met on the way. It was strange, he added, that the Bega had brought us safe back again; it was not like that clever, evil old Gege-Merak. Fortunately no one had told him of the old chief’s death, or he would have been still more curious.

But we refused to satisfy the fellow’s desire to gossip and kept our mouths fast shut when he was around. Also we refused his polite offers of entertainment and to his disgust hoisted sail early the next morning and head up the gulf toward Port Ibrahim.

Now that we had the treasure safe aboard, every moment we delayed was fraught with danger, and the doubtful friendship of this sheik of Koser was no longer of any value to us.