by Talbot Mundy
“And, Jimgrim, this Ludd must be an evil place, although I like the mules and horses and dogs and men and everything.”
“Well, what’s the matter with it, then?”
“There is an iblis.”
“A devil, is there? What does the devil do?”
“He is captain of the thieves. He dances at night in the hills, and the thieves bring him what they steal. He is abras.”
“A leper is he? Have to start to P.M.O. on his trail.”
“No. They say the chief doctor is afraid of him.”
“Why?”
“Because besides being abras he is mukaddas.”
“Holy, eh?”
“He is a derwish (dervish). They say he bewitches men by dancing, and after that the sentries can’t see to shoot them or kill them with bayonets. I am afraid of the iblis Jimgrim. You will have to let me sleep inside your tent, because it is too dangerous outside under the sky.”
“Tell me some more about the iblis. What is his name?”
“They say he has no name.”
“Where does he live?”
“Nowhere — that is, everywhere! He comes and goes — first men see him in one place, then in another. They say he wears no clothes except a turban, and has beastly great marks of leprosy all over him. They say that if a soldier sees him, he can never shoot straight again, and when a man touches him, that man dies within the day. Oh, Jimgrim, suppose he should come in the night!”
Jim sat down on the “deckchair, officer’s one” provided by a thoughtful War Office, and grinned.
“You’ve given me the right idea, youngster. Just for gambling you shall investigate this iblis.”
“Allah forbid! I would not even go with you to look at him!”
“All right. Then you shall wear girl’s clothes for a year.”
“Aib! Ana bkul la! (Shame! I say no!) Rather I will promise never to gamble again.”
“You’ve promised before. You have gambled again. Now you’ve got to choose — forward like a man to find the iblis, or a girl’s clothes for twelve months.”
“I could run away to some village, Jimgrim. You would never find me.”
“Suit yourself.”
“When you were my age, Jimgrim, would you have gone to look for an iblis?”
“Sure.”
“Kizzab mutkarbik! (You are a big liar!)”
“I hunted one before I was your age and found it was made of a pumpkin, a beanpole and a sheet.”
“That was only an American devil. This is a Palestine one. They are much worse.”
“Nothing’s bad unless you’re afraid of it,” said Jim.
“Not gambling? I am not afraid of that.”
“But you’re afraid of the consequences — girl’s clothes for a year.”
Suliman stamped his foot and swore a steady stream of brimstone Arabic.
“Remember, you’re only allowed ten swears a day!”
“I am a man! I will not wear a girl’s clothes!”
“You’ll find the iblis is a man when you lay hold of him.”
“How can that be?”
“That’s for you to find out.”
At that moment Narayan Singh arrived silently, and saluted in the tent door.
“All the camp is by the ears about a shaitan (devil), sahib. He is said to make thieves invisible and to cast a spell on soldiers so that they can never shoot or stab straight.”
“So I hear.”
“They say he may not be hunted because Moslems think his person is sacred. They say, too, he is a leper; yet the medical officer may not arrest him for the same reason. Yet some say he is captain of the thieves. Shall we two take him in hand?”
“Sure. First thing.”
“Does your honor want him alive? What if I put his sacredness to the test with a bullet?”
“Better investigate him first; there may be others. Be ready to come with me after dark.
“Atcha, sahib. Shall I place Suliman with friends who will look after him?”
“La! (No)” yelled Suliman. “I am a better man that any Sikh! I tell you I go too!”
CHAPTER III
“Now I won’t hear a word from you against Jenkins — not one word!”
FROM a cursory inspection of that camp, such as any ordinary visitor might give it, the impression would have been gained that Brigadier-General Jenkins was supreme. That was because his brigade command chance to lie nearest to the station, and his notion of the only way to achieve success in life was through advertisement.
Like many a commercial upstart of the type that he admired, advertisement had done a lot for him, and presently turned his head. To carry the metaphor further, he was becoming “overextended,” pyramiding “futures” on the sudden profits of a chancy past. There were others than the administrator in Jerusalem aware of his ambition and the meager grounds for it.
For instance, there was Major-General Anthony V.C. etc., in supreme command at Ludd, whom the public had hardly ever heard of because he cared to serve his country only, not himself. Jim found him in his shirt sleeves in the great marquee that overlooked the whole camp from rising ground at the rear.
“Glad to see you, Grim. Sit down. General Kettle was here this morning. He gave you some orders himself, I believe?”
“I’ve apologized already.”
“Good. You’re in my bad books, though. I was absent in Egypt when that TNT was lost. That gave Jenkins a chance to shift the blame, and he made the most of it. Now, thanks to your recovering the stuff and your block-headed idiocy in falling foul of him, Jenkins gets a new lease.
“Between you and me, Grim, he is one of those — politicians. Friends in the War Office, you know, and all that kind of thing.
“There seems no way of getting rid of him. He reached his present eminence by being recommended for promotion by one C.O. after another, who couldn’t endure him by didn’t want to quarrel with his powerful friends.
“His career is one long story of innocent fellows punished or broke to hide his shortcomings. Now, thanks to your infernal hot temper, he looks like breaking poor young Catesby, who’s an efficient young officer.
“You’re the logical man to have followed up that TNT business. You had it in hand and were successful beyond expectation. If you’d held your idiotic tongue, instead of telling Jenkins what you thought of him, I could have turned you loose down here, and what with his dislike of you and your brains I don’t doubt he’d have tripped himself out of the Army in a week or so.
“But imagine what a whip hand it would give Jenkins over me if it transpired that I had proceeded against him on charges brought by a major who had been ordered to apologize to him for insubordination only a few days before! Do you see what your hotheadedness has done?
“Now I won’t hear a word from you against Jenkins — not one word! You’re to investigate the thieving that’s going on down here, but I shall make a point of telling Jenkins myself this afternoon that you are here in his interest as much as anyone’s.
“Now — is there anything I can do to simplify matters for you in any way?”
“I ought to have Catesby’s assistance, sir.”
“But he’s under arrest.”
“Catesby needs time and opportunity to hunt up evidence in his own defense, sir.”
“He has made no such request to me. It would have to come from him, not you.”
“I’m his next friend. If it comes to a court martial I shall defend him.”
“I see. You propose to ignore my wigging and fall foul of the brigadier in that way, don’t you?”
“Absolutely no, sir! I’ll carry out your orders to the letter.”
“All right; I’ll trust you. A note shall go to Jenkins asking him to release Captain Catesby’s parole for fourteen days to enable him to look up evidence. Anything else?”
“You’ve heard of the iblis, of course?”
“The leper who dances in the moonlight? Yes. He’s quite a problem. I was for ha
ving him hunted and bagged alive. The P.M.O. wants him interned as a danger to the health of the whole neighborhood, though where the — he’d intern him I don’t know. But some politician has been pulling strings. It seems the leper is a religious mystic held in high regard by the Moslems, and orders have come that he’s not to be interfered with.”
“They say in the lines that this iblis is the captain of the thieves.”
“I know they do. I’ve known of things ten times more improbable.”
“In that case,” said Jim, “whatever politician pulled the strings is probably interested in the thieving.”
“The order to let the leper alone came from Egypt.”
“Why not override it on the ground of military expediency?”
“Because, the war’s over, Grim, and the politicians are getting the upper hand. The way is being paved for civil government, and for every once that I override the political department I get ten defeats. I’m disposed now to let the politicians mix their own litter and lie in it.”
Jim was a lot too wise to ask permission after that to tackle the iblis. It was sufficient that he had no orders not to tackle him. But he was more mystified than ever. Just as Sir Henry Kettle had done that morning, General Anthony seemed to be deliberately leaving the course unobstructed which, if Jim could find it, might lead to Jenkins’ undoing. Why in thunder couldn’t they tackle Jenkins outright, he wondered.
* * * * *
He went straight to Jenkins’ ten and sent his name in by the orderly, but was kept waiting five minutes while the brigadier whistled a tune; for there is nothing like cooling a junior’s heels, according to some folk.
“Can you tell me anything, sir, that might lead to the discovery of who stole the TNT?” he asked when he was admitted.
“Hah! So our wonderful, astute American has come for assistance, eh? I thought you were such an expert intelligence officer that you never needed anyone’s advice? Glad to come to me after all, eh? What anticlimax! I dare say you wish now you’d made that apology a little more humble and less technical?”
There was no one else in the tent, although there might have been some eavesdropper listening behind it, for Jenkins knew no limits when his own advantage was in question. Jim took a grip on himself, and smiled.
“I’ve been rebuked twice this morning for what I said to you the other day. Twice I’ve pledged myself to make amends, if I can, buy getting all possible credit for you out of the clearing up of this thieving business.”
“Oh!”
If there was one thing more than another on which Brigadier-General Jenkins prided himself it was his ability to read men and take advantage of their peculiarities. Next to that he considered his claim to success lay in swift appraisal of subsurface reasons — political judgement in other words.
Jim Grim he assessed as one of those slaves of integrity, who value their own word above all other considerations; a slave, moreover, who had no influential backing. He did not doubt that whatever Jim had promised to do he would do, whoever might be discommoded in the process. There were only two men who could have made Jim promise — Kettle and Anthony — and only someone higher up still who could have actuated them; therefore somebody attached to headquarters in Cairo must have been pulling more than usually effective strings.
There might even have come definite instructions from the Foreign Office in London that the way must be paved for Brigadier-General Jenkins’ appointment to a civil post. The day of civil government was rapidly approaching. He himself had worked all the backstairs wires. There were more unlikely things.
Jenkins was no simpleton. He understood perfectly that both Kettle and Anthony detested and despised him; and, blinded by his own conceit, he supposed they would be willing to praise him with their tongues in their cheeks in order to get rid of him.
“Soho!” he remarked, and whistled a bar or two.
Jim, loathing him, skin, bone and stuffing, stood with a straight face, waiting while the brigadier turned his stalwart back to think.
“So we’re to pull together, are we, eh? Well — I’m not vindictive. I’d half a mind to ruin your career — d’you know that? I won’t stand insolence from any man. Nemo me impune lacessit; that’s my motto. I’ve got teeth, and I like the world to know it. However, as you seem eager to reinforce a lame apology by doing the right thing, I’ll bet bygones be bygones and we’ll forget the incident.”
Jim’s memory was reputed to be a trifle more retentive that that, had Jenkins stopped to think, but the brigadier was full steam ahead already on the track of self-advancement with the terminus in view. The brakes weren’t working.
“Sit down. Now this thieving that has been going on in the camp is a perfectly scandalous business. There’s no excuse for it. Not counting that TNT, which was returned to store — thanks to some extent, I believe to your efforts — the Army has lost a hundred and nine rifles in three months, to say nothing of countless rounds of ammunition — blankets — groceries — soap — underclothing — and stores of all kinds. Incompetence, of course. Best not to mention names.
“Between you and me, I’ve been waiting for the Army auditor to check things up and discover how much is missing. That’s done now. They know in Cairo just how much remissness there has been.
“Now’s the time, then, for somebody to get credit for changing that state of affairs. You’re a man who’s had rapid promotion; there’s no need to tell you that the paving of the short cut consists of other men’s mistakes. Very well. Somebody will have to pay; but what is that man’s poison may turn out to be your meat and mine. D’you get my meaning?”
“Perfectly.”
“Have a cigar. It’s obvious to the meanest intelligence — or at least it ought to be obvious, you’d think — that these thieves have a headquarters. Any general with half an eye would recognize signs of the thieves being organized. That means they’ve got a leader — perhaps two or three men, but more likely one — directing all of them. Is that much clear?”
“Sounds obvious.”
“It is. My notion of a good commanding office is a man with his ear to the ground, who listens, and knows what the men are saying. Any man with only one ear, and that half full of wax, would know that it’s common talk in this camp that the captain of thieves is a notorious leper. Have you heard of him?”
“Yes.”
“Have you heard any reasonable explanation as to why he’s left at liberty? No, of course you haven’t, for there is none. There’s a reason given, of course, but it’s childish. They’re afraid of offending the Moslems. Now listen to me.”
“Go ahead. I’m listening.”
“Have a drink. Help yourself. Now who would stand to gain most by stealing weapons? Eh? Who are they who want to possess a country owned by present by Arabs — who are being threatened everlastingly by Arabs — who have no weapons of their own, and whose grip on the country is only made temporarily possible by an army of occupation dependent on the whims of a Foreign Office? The Zionists, eh? D’you get me?”
“Then you mean—”
“I mean this: The Arabs have lots of weapons hidden away. The Zionists have none — or had none until this thieving started. The Zionists believe, what I’m quite sure of, that they’re going to get left in the lurch by our Foreign Office sooner or later. So they’ve hired Arabs to steal rifles for them, for Jews to use against Arabs later on. D’you follow me?”
“I see the drift.”
“Kettle and Anthony and the rest of them imagine that the Zionists are going to have it all their own way with the backing of the British Government. But I know better. I happen to have influential connections at home who keep me posted; and between you and me the Zionists are going to be told before long to paddle their own canoe.
“Of course, the Zionists have their own friends at the Foreign Office, who keep them posted, too; they know as well as you and I do what’s likely to happen, and that the minute it does they’ll be at the mercy of the Arabs unless they
can arm themselves in advance. Failing arms, they’ll have to get out of the country. That’s inevitable finally; they’ll have to get out. You can take my word for it, the solution of this Palestine problem is going to be an Arab kingdom. The Zionists haven’t a chance.”
Jim saw no reason to argue with a man who chose to back a losing horse. He sat still.
“I rather think General Anthony himself suspects this thieving is the work of Zionists,” Jenkins went on. “But he’s afraid of Zionists, as well as more than half in favor of them. I’m not. I know which side my bread is buttered on, and I’m pro-Arab to the core. Are you?”
“I’m extremely partial to Arabs,” Jim answered guardedly. “Can’t help liking them.”
“So we’ll just take a fall out of the Zionists ahead of time, and let the Arabs know who their individual friends are, with an eye to the future. Get after that iblis, as they call him, Grim, as soon as you like. Scratch him and I think you’ll find a Jew; if not, you’ll discover a Jew somewhere back of him.”
“I thought of getting on his trail tonight,” said Jim.
“Good. Do. Report to me and to no one else. See you in the morning, then. So long.”
* * * * *
Ten minutes later Jim turned up at Catesby’s tent.
“No ‘home on a trooper’ for you, old man! This Jenkins bird is going to provide you with work.”
“But you’ve got to whitewash the brute!”
“Sure. The Lord alone knows how yet, but he shall have such an elegant ducking in white paint that it won’t ever come off. Your parole’s to be raised for fourteen days, and we’ll work together to pump Jinks so full of self- importance that he’ll burst. Meanwhile, I’ll get some sleep. You do the same. Don’t forget, if anybody asks, that you need liberty to hunt up evidence to clear yourself. So long.”
CHAPTER IV
“Moreover, Jimgrim, you are my friend!”
NO city in the world can vie with a great camp for binding spells, by night especially; for the city only represents what men have done, whereas the camp allures with what they mean to do. The policeman at a crossing signifies that what today approves tomorrow will repeat. The sentry with firelight dancing on his pointed steel denotes the alertness of unfolding destiny. The entertainment of a city is the fruit of things accomplished, growing rotten, but the thrilling murmur of a camp by night is the prelude to new heavens and a new earth.