United States or Antigua and Barbuda ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Anyhow, that Eg-Anteouen with his hasheesh is a fine rascal." "Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," I corrected. I rubbed my hand over my forehead. "Where are we?" "My dear boy," Morhange replied, "since I awakened from the extraordinary nightmare which is mixed up with the smoky cave and the lamp-lit stairway of the Arabian Nights, I have been going from surprise to surprise, from confusion to confusion.
But his eyes became suddenly hard. Under the lustrous veil I saw his features stiffening. Morhange and I turned around. On the threshold of the cavern, breathless, discomfited, harassed by an hour of vain pursuit, Bou-Djema had returned to us. As Eg-Anteouen and Bou-Djema came face to face, I fancied that both the Targa and the Chaamba gave a sudden start which each immediately repressed.
"But," finished Eg-Anteouen imperturbably, "but Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, with one blow of his saber, splits Captain Masson's skull.".. He gave a silent, satisfied laugh as he spoke. The dying flame lit up his face. We saw the gleaming black stem of his pipe. He held it in his left hand. One finger, no, two fingers only on that hand. Hello! I had not noticed that before.
They will have to climb the mountain." The guide looked at me with amazement. Up to that time I had thought it unnecessary to acquaint him with our new projects. But I supposed Eg-Anteouen would have told him. "Lieutenant, the road across the white plain to Shikh-Salah is not mountainous," said the Chaamba. "We are not keeping to the road across the white plain. We are going south, by Ahaggar."
I was amusing myself a little. Pardon me." Just then the girth of one of the baggage camels, evidently not well fastened, came loose. Part of the load slipped and fell to the ground. Eg-Anteouen descended instantly from his beast and helped Bou-Djema repair the damage. When they had finished, I made my mehari walk beside Bou-Djema's. "It will be better to resaddle the camels at the next stop.
"The Pleiades," I murmured to Morhange, showing him the seven pale stars, while Eg-Anteouen took up his mournful song in the same monotone: "The Daughters of the Night are seven: Mâteredjrê and Erredjeâot, Mâtesekek and Essekâot, Mâtelahrlahr and Ellerhâot, The seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has flown away." A sudden sickness came over me.
"And my mehari?" he asked. I explained that our guide was then employed in trying to save his beast. He in turn told us how it had stumbled, and fallen into the current, and he himself, in trying to save it, had been knocked over. His forehead had struck a rock. He had cried out. After that he remembered nothing more. "What is your name?" I asked. "Eg-Anteouen." "What tribe do you belong to?"
"Yes, it's a good one," I repeated, bursting into laughter. Eg-Anteouen quietly smiled approval. The dying fire lit his inscrutable face and flickered in his terrible dark eyes. A moment passed. Suddenly Morhange seized the Targa's arm. "I want to smoke, too," he said. "Give me a pipe." The specter gave him one. "What! A European pipe?" "A European pipe," I repeated, feeling gayer and gayer.
"With an initial, 'M. As if made on purpose. M.... Captain Morhange." "Masson," corrected Eg-Anteouen quietly. "Captain Masson," I repeated in concert with Morhange. We laughed again. "Ha! Ha! Ha! Captain Masson.... Colonel Flatters.... The well of Garama. They killed him to take his pipe ... that pipe. It was Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh who killed Captain Masson."
"Here it is," said the Targa. A black hole in the wall opened up. Bending over, Eg-Anteouen entered. We followed him. The darkness closed around us. A yellow flame. Eg-Anteouen had struck his flint. He set fire to a pile of brush near the surface. At first we could see nothing. The smoke blinded us. Eg-Anteouen stayed at one side of the opening of the cave.
Word Of The Day