Chapter 18: The Fire-Flies

Through the great open window, waves of pale moonlight surged into my room.

A slender white figure was standing beside the bed where I lay.

“You, Tanit-Zerga!” I murmured. She laid a finger on her lips.

“Sh! Yes, it is I.”

I tried to raise myself up on the bed. A terrible pain seized my shoulder. The events of the afternoon came back to my poor harassed mind.

“Oh, little one, if you knew!”

“I know,” she said.

I was weaker than a baby. After the overstrain of the day had come a fit of utter nervous depression. A lump rose in my throat, choking me.

“If you knew, if you only knew! ... Take me away, little one. Get me away from here.”

“Not so loud,” she whispered. “There is a white Targa on guard at the door.”

“Take me away; save me,” I repeated.

“That is what I came for,” she said simply.

I looked at her. She no longer was wearing her beautiful red silk tunic. A plain white haik was wrapped about her; and she had drawn one corner of it over her head.

“I want to go away, too,” she said in a smothered voice.

“For a long time, I have wanted to go away. I want to see Gâo, the village on the bank of the river, and the blue gum trees, and the green water.

“Ever since I came here, I have wanted to get away,” she repeated, “but I am too little to go alone into the great Sahara. I never dared speak to the others who came here before you. They all thought only of her ... But you, you wanted to kill her.”

I gave a low moan.

“You are suffering,” she said. “They broke your arm.”

“Dislocated it anyhow.”

“Let me see.”

With infinite gentleness, she passed her smooth little hands over my shoulder.

“You tell me that there is a white Targa on guard before my door, Tanit-Zerga,” I said. “Then how did you get in?”

“That way,” she said, pointing to the window. A dark perpendicular line halved its blue opening.

Tanit-Zerga went to the window. I saw her standing erect on the sill. A knife shone in her hands. She cut the rope at the top of the opening. It slipped down to the stone with a dry sound.

She came back to me.

“How can we escape?” I asked.

“That way,” she repeated, and she pointed again at the window.

I leaned out. My feverish gaze fell upon the shadowy depths, searching for those invisible rocks, the rocks upon which little Kaine had dashed himself.

“That way!” I exclaimed, shuddering. “Why, it is two hundred feet from here to the ground.”

“The rope is two hundred and fifty,” she replied. “It is a good strong rope which I stole in the oasis; they used it in felling trees. It is quite new.”

“Climb down that way, Tanit-Zerga! With my shoulder!”

“I will let you down,” she said firmly. “Feel how strong my arms are. Not that I shall rest your weight on them. But see, on each side of the window is a marble column. By twisting the rope around one of them, I can let you slip down and scarcely feel your weight.

“And look,” she continued, “I have made a big knot every ten feet. I can stop the rope with them, every now and then, if I want to rest.”

“And you?” I asked.

“When you are down, I shall tie the rope to one of the columns and follow. There are the knots on which to rest if the rope cuts my hands too much. But don’t be afraid: I am very agile. At Gâo, when I was just a child, I used to climb almost as high as this in the gum trees to take the little toucans out of their nests. It is even easier to climb down.”

“And when we are down, how will we get out? Do you know the way through the barriers?”

“No one knows the way through the barriers,” she said, “except Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, and perhaps Antinea.”

“Then?”

“There are the camels of Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, those which he uses on his forays. I untethered the strongest one and led him out, just below us, and gave him lots of hay so that he will not make a sound and will be well fed when we start.”

“But...” I still protested.

She stamped her foot.

“But what? Stay if you wish, if you are afraid. I am going. I want to see Gâo once again, Gâo with its blue gum-trees and its green water.”

I felt myself blushing.

“I will go, Tanit-Zerga. I would rather die of thirst in the midst of the desert than stay here. Let us start.”

“Tut!” she said. “Not yet.”

She showed me that the dizzy descent was in brilliant moonlight.

“Not yet. We must wait. They would see us. In an hour, the moon will have circled behind the mountain. That will be the time.”

She sat silent, her haik wrapped completely about her dark little figure. Was she praying? Perhaps.

Suddenly I no longer saw her. Darkness had crept in the window. The moon had turned.

Tanit-Zerga’s hand was on my arm. She drew me toward the abyss. I tried not to tremble.

Everything below us was in shadow. In a low, firm voice, Tanit-Zerga began to speak:

“Everything is ready. I have twisted the rope about the pillar. Here is the slip-knot. Put it under your arms. Take this cushion. Keep it pressed against your hurt shoulder ... A leather cushion ... It is tightly stuffed. Keep face to the wall. It will protect you against the bumping and scraping.”

I was now master of myself, very calm. I sat down on the sill of the window, my feet in the void. A breath of cool air from the peaks refreshed me.

I felt little Tanit-Zerga’s hand in my vest pocket.

“Here is a box. I must know when you are down, so I can follow. You will open the box. There are fire-flies in it; I shall see them and follow you.”

She held my hand a moment.

“Now go,” she murmured.

I went.

I remember only one thing about that descent: I was overcome with vexation when the rope stopped and I found myself, feet dangling, against the perfectly smooth wall.

“What is the little fool waiting for?” I said to myself. “I have been hung here for a quarter of an hour. Ah ... at last! Oh, here I am stopped again.” Once or twice I thought I was reaching the ground, but it was only a projection from the rock. I had to give a quick shove with my foot ... Then, suddenly, I found myself seated on the ground. I stretched out my hands. Bushes ... A thorn pricked my finger. I was down.

Immediately I began to get nervous again.

I pulled out the cushion and slipped off the noose. With my good hand, I pulled the rope, holding it out five or six feet from the face of the mountain, and put my foot on it.

Then I took the little cardboard box from my pocket and opened it.

One after the other, three little luminous circles rose in the inky night. I saw them rise higher and higher against the rocky wall. Their pale rose aureols gleamed faintly. Then, one by one, they turned, disappeared.

“You are tired, Sidi Lieutenant. Let me hold the rope.”

Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh rose up at my side.

I looked at his tall black silhouette. I shuddered, but I did not let go of the rope on which I began to feel distant jerks.

“Give it to me,” he repeated with authority.

And he took it from my hands.

I don’t know what possessed me then. I was standing beside that great dark phantom. And I ask you, what could I, with a dislocated shoulder, do against that man whose agile strength I already knew? What was there to do? I saw him buttressed against the wall, holding the rope with both hands, with both feet, with all his body, much better than I had been able to do.

A rustling above our heads. A little shadowy form.

“There,” said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, seizing the little shadow in his powerful arms and placing her on the ground, while the rope, let slack, slapped back against the rock.

Tanit-Zerga recognized the Targa and groaned.

He put his hand roughly over her mouth.

“Shut up, camel thief, wretched little fly.”

He seized her arm. Then he turned to me.

“Come,” he said in an imperious tone.

I obeyed. During our short walk, I heard Tanit-Zerga’s teeth chattering with terror.

We reached a little cave.

“Go in,” said the Targa.

He lighted a torch. The red light showed a superb mehari peacefully chewing his cud.

“The little one is not stupid,” said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, pointing to the animal. “She knows enough to pick out the best and the strongest. But she is rattle-brained.”

He held the torch nearer the camel.

“She is rattle-brained,” he continued. “She only saddled him. No water, no food. At this hour, three days from now, all three of you would have been dead on the road, and on what a road!”

Tanit-Zerga’s teeth no longer chattered. She was looking at the Targa with a mixture of terror and hope.

“Come here, Sidi Lieutenant,” said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, “so that I can explain to you.”

When I was beside him, he said: