Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  “This treasure,” said my father, slowly and reflectively, “belongs to the Egyptian government, accordin’ to your own say-so.”

  “Oh, no!” cried Van Dorn.

  “I take it that way, from your statement.”

  “I said the present laws of Egypt, enacted a few years ago, forbade any relic of the old civilization to be taken out of the country. The Museum will buy all my treasure, and give me an insignificant sum not at all commensurate with its value; but what right has the Khedive to claim what I have worked so hard to secure? In America the gems alone will sell for millions.”

  “But this is an Egyptian treasure,” I said. “The laws seem to me to be just. What right have you, a foreigner, to remove this great wealth from the country?”

  “The right of discovery,” retorted the little Professor, promptly, with an energetic bob of his head. “Who is the Khedive of Egypt? A Turk. A foreigner like myself, if you please, who rules here as a dependant of Turkey, and pays the Sultan eleven millions a year in tribute — a sum he wrings from the remnant of the true Egyptians, and from the Arab and other native population, by means of excessive taxes. This treasure once belonged to Egypt, we will admit, and it was buried by the Egyptian priests to save it from just such invaders as these Turks. But Egyptians no longer rule Egypt, nor ever will again; so that in simple justice this treasure belongs solely to its discoverer rather than to the usurper in the land where it lies buried.”

  “Still,” said Uncle Naboth, “we have this government to reckon with. Morally, you may be entitled to the treasure, but legally the decrees of the Khedive are inviolable. Eh? If we attempt to run away with this ‘ere treasure, an’ get caught, we can be punished as common thieves.”

  “But we shall not be caught!” cried the Professor. “Mark you, no one in Egypt suspects the existence of this treasure, so to take it will be robbing no one — not even the Khedive.”

  “Doesn’t Abdul Hashim suspect it?” I inquired.

  “Yes; perhaps I should make an exception of Abdul Hashim; but his information is at present confined to mere guessing, and he is too wily and covetous ever to tell his suspicions to a government official. What he wants is to get the treasure for himself, and the real battle, if we meet opposition, will be between Abdul Hashim and us. We ought to have killed him last night, when we had the chance; but unfortunately the dog made his escape.”

  “He’s a dangerous enemy,” observed Ned Britton.

  “Only to the unarmed and helpless,” quickly replied the Professor. “A half dozen Americans could defy his entire tribe. And it is possible we shall get a chance to kill him before he makes more trouble.”

  “You speak of murder very easily,” said my father.

  “They are but heathen men, wicked and cruel,” protested the Professor, “and so numerous that a few of them sent to perdition will never be missed. As long as the government remains in ignorance of my secret we are safe from interference, except through this wild and worthless tribe led by Abdul Hashim, and brave Americans have no cause to fear him. Moreover, there is the treasure itself to be considered. Is it not worth while to risk something to secure an immense fortune?”

  “What proof have you,” asked Uncle Naboth, “of the existence of this treasure?”

  Van Dorn hesitated a moment, then unbuttoned his vest and took from around his waist a leathern belt. This he laid carefully upon the table, and opening its folds drew out a number of brilliant rubies.

  “Here is my proof,” said he, offering the gems for inspection. “They are a part of the treasure Lovelace took on that terrible night I have described to you.”

  We examined them. They were large and brilliant, but cut into squares and oblongs, triangles and octagons, with smooth flat surfaces.

  “These may be glass,” remarked Uncle Naboth, musingly.

  “I am a lapidary,” said the Professor, his voice slightly trembling with indignation. “I assure you they are the most splendid rubies in the known world. Here are pearls. Even your ignorance will acknowledge their genuineness.”

  He produced, as he spoke, several superb pearls, as large as peas and tinted in exquisite rose colors.

  “Ah,” exclaimed Mr. Perkins, “I know pearls, all right; for I have traded for years with the Philippine pearl fishers. You are a strange man, Professor Van Dorn, to wish to risk your life for more of this plunder. Here is a fortune in itself.”

  Van Dorn shrugged his stooped shoulders, his red beard bristling with scorn.

  “Would you, then, advise me to allow the treasure of Karnak to remain another two thousand years buried in the sands of the desert?” he asked. “Are your big speculators in America satisfied to acquire a million, or do they every one labor like slaves to make their million into a billion? Men are satisfied with many things in this age, but never are they satisfied with wealth. The more we have the more we strive to obtain. But here — look at these ornaments. Can modern goldsmiths match them?”

  He drew out a golden necklace of magnificent workmanship, quaint in design and wrought with a delicacy and skill that were wonderful. A bracelet, two rings, and a diadem set with amethysts were also exhibited to our admiring eyes.

  “These,” said the Professor, “you must admit are both antique and valuable; yet they are a mere sample of the immense treasure I have discovered. There is enough, as I have told you, to make us all wealthy, and I am willing to divide liberally in order to obtain your assistance. But I shall not urge you. If you are too stupid or cowardly to accept my offer, keep my secret and go about your business. No harm is done. There will be thousands willing to undertake the adventure.”

  He put the jewels and ornaments back into the belt and buckled it around his waist, hiding it again underneath his vest. He leaned back in his chair, lighted a cigarette, and glanced at our grave faces inquiringly.

  “Be good enough to go on deck for a time, Professor,” said my father. “We will talk the matter over among ourselves before venturing to give you an answer.”

  He rose without protest and retired, and at once we began an earnest discussion of the proposal. The first point to settle was the legality of the thing, and it seemed to us the Professor was right in his contention that the present powers in Egypt, which had acquired the country by wars of conquest, had no more moral right to claim the buried treasure of the ancient priests of Karnak than had its recent discoverers. The old religion based on the worship of Isis and Osiris had disappeared from the earth and its votaries were long since dead or dispersed. The hidden treasure, formerly the property of this religious body, had now no legal claimants and belonged to whomsoever had the fortune to find it and the courage to seize and hold it. That the Khedive had made laws forbidding anyone to remove ancient treasure from Egypt did not affect us in the least. We were free Americans and in no way under the dominion of the Turks who had conquered Egypt. They might exact tribute from this land and establish the claim of might to whatever wealth the country contained; but it was our privilege to evade this might if we chose to. There are true Egyptians yet living in Egypt, but they are poor-spirited folk and are largely outnumbered by the Arabs, Turks and other foreigners, so that the control of their native land is doubtless lost to them forever.

  Having thus satisfied our consciences that we were justified in undertaking an adventure to secure this wealth, we faced the consequences of failure or discovery. There was nothing to demand our immediate return to America, and the time required by the undertaking was therefore available. But the Seagull represented a fortune to us, and we hesitated to jeopardize her safety. According to international treaty we were not safe from seizure in case the ship violated the laws of Egypt; but there was a strong probability that the worst fate liable to overtake us, if discovered, would be the confiscation of the treasure. The Khedive would hesitate to involve his country in a dispute with the United States by resorting to extreme measures. We were taking a chance, of course; but the game seemed well worth the chance, and none can expe
ct to win who hesitates to risk a stake.

  Having disposed of governmental interference we faced the question of a war with Abdul Hashim and his tribe, and decided to contest the Arab’s claim — which was not in any way equal to that of the Professor, according to the story he had told us. We had before this encountered some desperate adventures in strange lands and were not disposed to shrink from a skirmish with these lawless Arabs, if they forced it upon us. There remained, then, but two points to be settled: the best way to get the treasure aboard ship, and our share in the division, once we had safely transported it to America.

  We recalled the Professor and asked him for his plans and proposals. He was a queer little fellow, this Van Dorn; half coward and half bully; but there was no doubt the man possessed a share of shrewd intelligence.

  “If we undertake to go up the Nile, past Cairo and Assuit,” he said, “and try to bring the treasure back to Alexandria, the chances are that we should never succeed. This is the most populous portion of Egypt, and government spies and the mounted police are everywhere. Had this been my plan I should not have appealed to you to assist me. Your claim to become my allies lies in the fact that you have a swift ship unknown in these waters, a brave crew, and the American love for adventure. But the ship is the most important possession of all.”

  “You don’t expect us to sail up the Nile, do you?” I asked, impatiently.

  “No, that is impossible,” was his quiet reply. “From here to Luxor is seven hundred miles; but the Arabian Gulf, in the Red Sea, is only ninety miles from where the treasure is hidden. You will take your ship to Port Said, through the Suez Canal, and so down the Gulf to the small and unimportant town of Koser, where there is a good harbor. Here we shall hire camels which will take us in four days across the Arabian desert to the treasure, which we shall load upon the camels and bring back with us to the ship. We shall not appear at Karnak or Luxor at all, you see, and shall encounter only the desert Bedouins, who are quite friendly to Europeans. Nor need we even approach the ruins of Abdul Hashim’s village. I know how to find the spot where the treasure lies, and in that lonely place there will be none to spy upon us.”

  “But how shall we find our way across the desert?” asked Uncle Naboth.

  “Why, there still exists an ancient caravan route from Koser to Luxor,” the Professor returned, “and we shall be able to secure guides who know every step of the way. It will be a tedious journey; four days to go and four to return; but, as I have said, the reward will be ample for such insignificant hardships.”

  “Your plan seems safe and practical,” observed my uncle. “I like the idea. But now, Van Dorn, we must come to the most important point of all. What do you offer us in return for the use of our ship, for our services and for the expenses of the undertaking?”

  “I will give you ten rubies and ten pearls,” said he. “They are of such size and purity that you can easily sell them for ten thousand dollars. That is an ample reward, it seems to me.”

  I laughed, and the others — even to Archie — smiled as if amused. The little Professor had spoken with an air of great condescension, as if conferring upon us a rare favor.

  “How much treasure is there?” asked my father.

  “That will not matter to you,” retorted Van Dorn. “I will give you the pearls and the rubies now, before we start. They shall be your wage. Afterward, all the treasure we secure shall be my own exclusive property.”

  Uncle Naboth yawned — it was a habit he had when bored — and my father slowly arose and stumped from the room.

  “When will you go ashore, Professor?” I asked.

  “What do you mean by that question?” he demanded, his face nearly as red as his beard.

  “Only that we intend to sail on our return voyage at sundown, and probably you are not quite ready to go to America in our company. One of the boats will land you on the quay whenever you please to go.”

  He looked at me intently, his face now turned chalky white.

  “Come, Archie,” said I, cheerily, “let’s go and see about unloading your boxes.”

  “Stay!” cried Van Dorn, suddenly. “What do you people demand?”

  “We? Oh, sir, we make no demands at all. Your proposition was, as you doubtless well knew, one it would be impossible for us to accept. But we shall keep your secret, never fear, and the best proof is that we are off for America. You are at liberty to go ashore and negotiate with others.”

  “And be murdered by Abdul Hashim,” he added, bitterly.

  “Ah; that is your affair,” I replied, indifferently.

  I went on deck with Archie and directed the men in getting the Ackley cases hoisted from the hold and swung aboard a small lighter, which landed them safely on the quay. I intended to send the boy’s two big telescopes with the goods, but Archie objected.

  “Wait a bit,” he whispered to me soberly. “I haven’t decided yet to go ashore.”

  “Not to deliver your father’s goods to the merchants at Luxor?” I asked, with a smile.

  “No. See here, Sam; I’m in on this deal,” he announced, earnestly. “If you fellows go fortune-hunting you must take me along.”

  “Oh, you want a share, do you?” I said, sarcastically.

  “I won’t refuse a small slice, Sam; but the most I’m after is the fun. This is the biggest deal I’ve ever heard of, and it promises a lot of sport before you’re through with it. Let me in, will you?” he added, pleadingly.

  “I’m willing, Archie. But it’s likely we can’t come to terms with the Professor. He don’t want to divvy fair, you see.”

  The little man was now walking disconsolately about the deck. Apparently he was in a state of deep dejection.

  I went with Archie to the quay, where he paid the import duties on his father’s wares and arranged to have them forwarded by the railway to Luxor, where they were consigned to himself.

  “You see, we don’t know these Greek and Syrian merchants,” he explained, “and we can’t trust dealers in humbug goods. That’s why father wanted me to come along. I’m to collect for the stuff when I deliver it, and also take orders for anything more they want us to manufacture.”

  “But don’t you intend to travel with the goods?” I asked.

  “No. They can wait at Luxor for me until we’ve decided what to do about the Professor’s treasure. According to his story it lies buried only a few miles from Luxor, so I may be able to attend to both errands at the same time.”

  Ah; if we only knew what this plan was destined to cost us!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A GREAT UNDERTAKING

  As archie and I returned along the quay from the custom house, to regain our boat, I noticed standing upon the edge of the dock the solitary but impressive figure of an Arab.

  He was fully six feet tall and splendidly formed. His dirty white burnous was wrapped around him in a way to emphasize the dignity of his pose, and his handsome countenance was calm and impassive. From beneath the ample folds of a black and yellow turban two wide dark eyes were set on a point of vision across the bay, and following his gaze I saw that it was directed toward the Seagull lying at her anchorage. These eyes, accustomed to the distances of the desert, might be stronger than my own, yet I myself found that I could discern dark forms moving about upon our deck, and one in especial — was it the Professor? — was leaning quietly over the side nearest the quay.

  The Arab did not notice Archie or me, so I had a chance to examine him critically. He was not old — perhaps thirty-five — and his unshaven face was a light tan in color. As we rowed out to the ship his eyes at last fell upon us, and I thought that he watched us intently until we were well aboard. From the deck I could still see his stalwart, motionless figure standing erect in the same position; and perhaps the Professor saw him, too, for he came toward me with an uneasy expression upon his face and requested another interview with my father, Uncle Naboth, and myself.

  I summoned Ned Britton, Archie, and Joe, as well, and presently we
all assembled in my father’s cabin.

  “I have been thinking over this proposal,” began Van Dorn, “and have concluded that my first offer was not liberal enough, in the circumstances. To be frank with you,” his little, ferret eyes were anything but frank, just then, “the treasure is useless to me without your assistance in obtaining and transporting it to a place of safety. So I am willing to meet your views in the matter of a division of the spoils.”

  We regarded him silently, and after a moment he added: “What do you think would be just, or satisfactory?”

  My uncle answered. He was an experienced trader.

  “According to your own story, sir,” said he, “you are not the original discoverer of this treasure. Professor Lovelace worked several years in tracing it, and finally succeeded because he had found an obscure diagram engraved on the ruined walls of a temple. He hired you to assist him. Tell us, then, what share of the plunder did he promise you?”

  The Professor hesitated, but thinking to deceive us, though his manner assured us he was lying, he said boldly:

  “I was to have one-half. But of course after Lovelace was murdered the whole belonged to me.”

  “Was there any compact to that effect?” I asked.

  “Not exactly. But it is reasonable and just, is it not?”

  “Had Lovelace no heirs — no family?”

  “None whatever.”

  Said Uncle Naboth, with his usual deliberation:

  “If you were to receive one-half the treasure from Lovelace, in return for your assistance, we will make the same contract with you in return for ours. Lovelace seemed to think it was worth that much, and we will abide by his judgment.”

  Van Dorn turned red. There was no escape from the toils he had cast about himself by his foolish statement. He looked thoughtfully out of the window, and following his gaze I saw the solitary Arab still standing on the quay with his face set in our direction.