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Updated: June 28, 2025
What, thought the Master, might be the meaning of all this? The Master had no time for speculation. The urgent problem of locating the Bara Jannati Shahr, beyond that inhospitable sierra, banished thoughts of all else. He inspected his charts, together with the air-liner's record of course and position. He slightly corrected the direction of flight.
Leclair sat up, heavily, and blinked with sand-inflamed eyes. "Time to drink again, n'est-ce pas, my Captain?" asked he. "Drink to the dead!" "I hope they are dead, rather than prisoners!" exclaimed the Master. "Yes, we'll drink, and get forward. We've got to make long strides, tonight. Those Jannati Shahr devils may be after us, tomorrow.
The dead man had suddenly revived from his feigned death and driven a jambiyeh into the base of the lieutenant's throat. That the lieutenant's orderly had instantly shattered the cameleer's skull with a point-blank shot had not saved Leclair. The four survivors, in addition to burying all the bodies, had buried the copper bars the caravan had been freighting to Jannati Shahr.
Furious as an army of jinnee with wild cries, screams, howls, as they stood in their stirrups and discharged their weapons toward the sky, the horsemen of Jannati Shahr drove down upon the little group of Legionaries. The major loosened his revolver in its holster. Others did the same.
As the on-thundering swarm of horsemen approached the pointed arch, some sixty feet wide by ninety high, its intaglios and complex arabesques flashing with millions of sunlit sparkles, a clear, sustained chant drifted out over city and plain the cry of some unseen muezzin, announcing news of great import to Jannati Shahr.
And with swift gestures he flung back the enveloping folds of the blanket, as if only he, the Master, could do this thing. Then, as the Myzab and the Stone appeared, he drew from his pocket the Great Pearl Star, and laid that also on the cloth, crying in a loud voice: "O, Bara Miyan, and people of Jannati Shahr, behold!"
His deep, regular breathing sounded in the gloom of the cabin that contained the Great Pearl Star, the Myzab, the sacred Black Stone of infinite veneration. An hour he slept. On, on roared Nissr, swaying, rising, falling a little as she hurled herself through the Arabian night toward the unknown Bara Jannati Shahr, hidden behind the Iron Mountains of mystery as yet unseen by any unbelieving eye.
Even the Master's cold blood leaped and thrilled, at realization of what he was now beholding as the silver lamps swung from out-stretched hands. Bohannan, for once, was too dazed for exuberance. Only the Master could find words. "Well, men," said he, in even tones. "Here it is, at last. We're seeing something no Feringi ever saw before the hidden treasure of Jannati Shahr!"
If it's good-bye, now so be it. "There may be a chance, however, of winning through. Hold fast to your goat-skins; and if the hidden river isn't too hot, and if there's head-room, some of us may get through to daylight. Let us try to reassemble where we find the first practicable stopping-place. If the Jannati Shahr men are waiting for us, there, don't be taken alive. Remember!
This name, no doubt, originally applied only to the vast inner space surrounded by the Iron Mountains, seems to have come to be that of Jannati Shahr itself, when spoken of by its inhabitants. The gigantic executioner the strangler named Sa'ad, seized Abd el Rahman by the right arm. Musa, his tar-hued companion, gripped him by the left.
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