to me. Mistrusting, as I invariably do, any man who shows me too much outward respect, it’s no less than reasonable to reverse that and hold my chin as high as I expect the other fellow to. Anyway I’ve always done it, and I did so then.
We rode straight up to Ibrahim ben Ah’s tent and let our camels kneel before dismounting. Then in our own good time, Narayan Singh taking his cue from me out of the corner of his eye, we gave the desert greeting that is solemn, stately, dignified, raising our hands to our foreheads as we bowed.
“Salamun alaik!” said I.
“Wa alaik issalam!” answered Ibrahim ben Ah.
Greeting and answer both meant “Peace!” So thus far all was well.
CHAPTER VII
“Akbar Ali Higg!”
The last time we set eyes on Ibrahim ben Ah was in the desert on the way to Petra, on the occasion of our capturing Jael, when he strode into our midst at midnight to receive orders from Grim, whom he supposed in the darkness to be Ali Higg, and strode away again without comment.
It was likely he knew neither of us by sight, for he can’t have had more than a sidewise glimpse of either of us in the always tricky moonlight; but I would have known him in any circumstances, for he was one of those rare individuals who leave their impress ineradicably on your mind, unlike Grim, who seems to have the useful gift of fading, so that every time you see him after an interval you remark something unexpected about him that seems new.
You can’t forget what Grim has done, nor how he did it, although it’s difficult to describe him because his features are not easy to recall. You could very easily forget what Ibrahim ben Ah had done, and his methods were too crude and cruel to possess the slightest novelty; but you couldn’t forget his face and general appearance if you tried for twenty years.
He was a handsome old fellow, with the venerable aspect rather spoiled by the breadth of his nose and the cold acquisitiveness of keen blue eyes. You expected them to be brown, and it was rather a shock when you saw they weren’t.
Most men look smaller when seated, especially if the seat is a mat or a pile of cushions, but not so he. The position merely increased his dignity.
He wore quite a lot of jewelry, including several diamond rings that called attention to the great size of his shapely hands, which were wrinkled and brown, but strong as iron. Most of his garments, except the striped outer cloak, were of silk, but, unlike most of his men, who wore plundered boots of every conceivable pattern, his bare, brown feet were shod only with open sandals.
He had the usual allowance of two bandoleers, a British service rifle, a revolver and two knives in sight; and they were probably only a suggestion of the armory he kept hidden from view in the ample folds of his cloak. When he moved there was a suggestive clink of hardware.
On the whole, I am inclined to think his main secret of command was hypnotic; he was so used to the receipt and execution of ruthless orders, and so bent on being obeyed that authority exuded from him like an aura. I made up my mind right away that to humor him would only tickle his vanity.
His men were within easy hail, and ten or twelve ruffians were standing almost within earshot; but inside the tent there were two of us to one of him, and if there was going to be any high-handed business I had a notion who would be first to regret it. Instead of waiting for him to speak first and standing respectfully in front of him, as ninety-nine Indians out of any hundred would have done, I squatted down on the floor-mat, motioned to Narayan Singh to do the same, and opened on him with an awkward question.
“What is this tale we hear?” I demanded. “Ali Higg sends us to find Ali Baba. Ali Baba tells us that you are afraid to advance on Abu Lissan. What does it mean?”
He was dumbfounded. There were probably not more than three people in the world who had dared to question him like that for several years past.
“Where is Ali Baba, and who are you that ask such a question?” he demanded after a long pause.
“Ali Baba,” said I, “is obeying orders, conveyed from the Lion himself by me to him. He has gone back to tell the Lion all that he has seen and heard. As to who I am—Mashallah! Are the Lion’s envoys called in question?”
“You are a stranger to me,” he retorted.
“Not so,” said I. “I was with the Lion on the night when he ordered you to that oasis on the way to El-Maan. I am the hakim who healed his boils. This other is my servant. I am a darwaish from Lahore, well versed in such matters as pertain to the offsetting of greater force by strategy and cunning. Therefore I am now employed by Ali Higg to aid him in confounding the Avenger.”
“Cunning?” he said, with the suggestion of a wry smile. “You look more like a bold man than a cunning one. Let us hope you are the father of deceit, for as surely as this right hand strikes my left, not the Prophet himself could have prevailed in his day against such numbers as we have against us!”
He suited action to the word by bringing down his right fist into his left palm with a loud clap.
As I have said several times, I am no strategist. That trick would have got by me. But Narayan Singh was too alert for him, and before the nearest men could come running in answer to the signal Ibrahim ben Ah’s cold old eyes were staring disconcertedly straight down the muzzle of a Webley revolver.
All the odds were dreadfully against us except one, but that lone one outweighed the rest. In common with the normal run of men old Ibrahim ben Ah was unprepared to die, and something in his inner consciousness convinced him—accurately as it happened—that Narayan Singh would pull the trigger, and not miss, unless he sent the men away as swiftly as he had summoned them.
I was afraid for a second that he was going to be too late, in which case I suppose this story would never have been told, although Ibrahim ben Ah and half a dozen others would certainly have preceded us to hammer at the gates of Kingdom Come. The old rascal was so surprised that words stuck in his throat, and I drew my own repeating pistol in readiness to make a last stand alongside Narayan Singh. But Ibrahim barked out an order in the nick of time, and almost at the tent-door the men halted, and turned away without having seen what was happening because the Sikh’s broad back was turned toward them.
Ibrahim ben Ah screwed up a smile that showed the gold caps on his eye-teeth when the men were once more out of ear-shot and Narayan Singh lowered the revolver.
“Ye act like men who are afraid!” he sneered. “Ye fear without cause. By Allah, I am a man who is well served, and if my men mistake a chance noise for a summons, that is no reason why honest men should tremble for their lives.” But if any one was trembling it was he, and not with fear but anger almost too intense to be suppressed. Having won the upper hand of him mainly through Narayan Singh’s presence of mind, it was up to us to hold it, and about as certain as anything well could be that the old man would reverse the situation at the first chance.
“I asked a question that you haven’t answered yet,” said I. “By the Prophet’s feet, this is a fine reception for the Lion’s messengers! A strange tale we shall have to tell him!”
“Aye!” he croaked, moving his Adam’s apple several times in rapid succession as he choked down his rising passion. “A very strange tale, on top of stranger happenings; I would like to see how Ali Higg with twenty men can make me move with a hundred, four and forty!
“First it was toward the British border I was sent, to raid El-Maan, which was feasible; there is loot there for the taking. Then I was told to cool my heels in that oasis. Now it is to march on Abu Lissan, where we have no chance at all, and I am sick of the changing orders from day to day.
“By Allah, who am I to be ordered about like a bought slave? And who in the name of the Prophet is Ali Higg that he should play fast and loose with me? I will not march on Abu Lissan, and that is all about it!”
I laughed. I couldn’t think of anything to say for the moment. If Ali Higg’s main force was going to mutiny, I didn’t see that Grim had much chance left of