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Updated: June 28, 2025
At 2 a.m. got a signal from Admiral Guépratte, "Situation at Kum Kale excellent, but d'Amade gave orders to re-embark. It has begun. Much regret it is not in my power to stop it." Well, so do I regret it. With just one more Brigade at our backs we would have taken Yeni Shahr and kept our grip on Kum Kale; helping along the Fleet; countering the big guns from Asia.
Here was rich color; here arose a softly perfumed air, balmy, incensed as with strange aromatics. Here was peace eternal kayf blessed rest here indeed lay a scene that gave full explanation of the ancient name "Arabia Felix." And at the left, dominating all this beauty, shone and glimmered in the ardent sun the wondrous Golden City of Jannati Shahr.
Unmistakably a furious cascade was boiling, swirling away, down there at undetermined distances of blackness. The boldest men among the little group of fugitives felt the crawl and fingering of a very great dread at their hearts. Behind them lay the labyrinth, with what pitfalls none could tell and with the Jannati Shahr men perhaps already penetrating into the crypt.
This sharing of tobacco seemed to establish almost an amicable Free Masonry between them and the Jannati Shahr men. All sat and smoked in what seemed a friendly silence. The slave-girls silently departed. Others came with huge, silver trays graven with Koran verses.
Their morale remained perfect; their discipline, under the command of Grison left alone as they were in the midst of potentially hostile territory and with overwhelming masses of Mohammedans close at hand held them as firmly as did that of the advance guard now whirling up the wide, paved road to the gleaming gate of Jannati Shahr.
All remained calm, though had you watched "Captain Alden," you would have seen her fingers twisting together till the blood almost started through the skin. The Master walked a few paces, turned and faced the squad. "Ready, men of Jannati Shahr?" asked he, with a smile. "We are ready, Unbeliever!" "Then fire!" Up came the rifles.
Beyond, a blanched salt-plain gleamed hoar-white in the on-coming dusk; and farther off, the dunes began again. Strangely enough, the Master laughed. He turned and beckoned, silently. The others joined him. "From the west!" he whispered. "This is no pursuit! It is a caravan going to Jannati Shahr!" Bohannan chuckled, and patted his revolver. "Faith, but Allah is being good to us!" he muttered.
Infinitely preferable would stone or wood have been, for dwellings; but as Jannati Shahr was, so the Legion had to take it. And doubtless long generations of familiarity with it had made it wholly normal, pleasant, and innocuous to these super-Arabs.
The rest will get us, all right enough, but Jannati Shahr will remember the coming of the white men!" The survivors the Master, Bohannan, "Captain Alden," and Leclair and nine others were in evil case, as they trailed down the low-roofed chamber lighted with copper lamps. More than half bore wounds.
But they kept silence, though their eyes were busy; and presently through another smaller gate they all clattered into a hosh, or court, facing what obviously must have been the central citadel of Jannati Shahr. Bara Miyan pulled sharply on the red, silver-broidered reins and cut back the frothing lip of his barb.
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