L. Frank Baum (10 page)

Above the high walls projected many slender, white minarets, indicating
that the inhabitants were either Turks or some race of Mohammedans; so
Rob decided to make investigations before trusting himself to their
company.

A cluster of tall trees with leafy tops stood a short distance outside
the walls, and here the boy landed and sat down to rest in the
refreshing shade.

The city seemed as hushed and still as if it were deserted, and before
him stretched the vast plain of white, heated sands. He strained his
eyes to catch a glimpse of the band of warriors he had passed, but they
were moving slowly and had not yet appeared.

The trees that sheltered Rob were the only ones without the city,
although many low bushes or shrubs grew scattering over the space
between him and the walls. An arched gateway broke the enclosure at
his left, but the gates were tightly shut.

Something in the stillness and the intense heat of the mid-day sun made
the boy drowsy. He stretched himself upon the ground beneath the dense
foliage of the biggest tree and abandoned himself to the languor that
was creeping over him.

"I'll wait until that army of the desert arrives," he thought,
sleepily. "They either belong in this city or have come to capture it,
so I can tell better what to dance when I find out what the band plays."

The next moment he was sound asleep, sprawling upon his back in the
shade and slumbering as peacefully as an infant.

And while he lay motionless three men dropped in quick succession from
the top of the city wall and hid among the low bushes, crawling
noiselessly from one to another and so approaching, by degrees, the
little group of trees.

They were Turks, and had been sent by those in authority within the
city to climb the tallest tree of the group and discover if the enemy
was near. For Rob's conjecture had been correct, and the city of
Yarkand awaited, with more or less anxiety, a threatened assault from
its hereditary enemies, the Tatars.

The three spies were not less forbidding in appearance than the horde
of warriors Rob had passed upon the desert. Their features were coarse
and swarthy, and their eyes had a most villainous glare. Old fashioned
pistols and double-edged daggers were stuck in their belts and their
clothing, though of gorgeous colors, was soiled and neglected.

With all the caution of the American savage these Turks approached the
tree, where, to their unbounded amazement, they saw the boy lying
asleep. His dress and fairness of skin at once proclaimed him, in
their shrewd eyes, a European, and their first thought was to glance
around in search of his horse or dromedary. Seeing nothing of the kind
near they were much puzzled to account for his presence, and stood
looking down at him with evident curiosity.

The sun struck the polished surface of the traveling machine which was
attached to Rob's wrist and made the metal glitter like silver. This
attracted the eyes of the tallest Turk, who stooped down and stealthily
unclasped the band of the machine from the boy's outstretched arm.
Then, after a hurried but puzzled examination of the little instrument,
he slipped it into the pocket of his jacket.

Rob stirred uneasily in his sleep, and one of the Turks drew a slight
but stout rope from his breast and with gentle but deft movement passed
it around the boy's wrists and drew them together behind him. The
action was not swift enough to arouse the power of repulsion in the
Garment of Protection, but it awakened Rob effectually, so that he sat
up and stared hard at his captors.

"What are you trying to do, anyhow?" he demanded.

The Turks laughed and said something in their own language. They had
no knowledge of English.

"You're only making fools of yourselves," continued the boy,
wrathfully. "It's impossible for you to injure me."

The three paid no attention to his words. One of them thrust his hand
into Rob's pocket and drew out the electric tube. His ignorance of
modern appliances was so great that he did not know enough to push the
button. Rob saw him looking down the hollow end of the tube and
murmured:

"I wish it would blow your ugly head off!"

But the fellow, thinking the shining metal might be of some value to
him, put the tube in his own pocket and then took from the prisoner the
silver box of tablets.

Rob writhed and groaned at losing his possessions in this way, and
while his hands were fastened behind him tried to feel for and touch
the indicator of the traveling machine. When he found that the machine
also had been taken, his anger gave way to fear, for he realized he was
in a dangerously helpless condition.

The third Turk now drew the Record of Events from the boy's inner
pocket. He knew nothing of the springs that opened the lids, so, after
a curious glance at it, he secreted the box in the folds of his sash
and continued the search of the captive. The Character Marking
Spectacles were next abstracted, but the Turk, seeing in them nothing
but spectacles, scornfully thrust them back into Rob's pocket, while
his comrades laughed at him. The boy was now rifled of seventeen cents
in pennies, a broken pocket knife and a lead-pencil, the last article
seeming to be highly prized.

After they had secured all the booty they could find, the tall Turk,
who seemed the leader of the three, violently kicked at the prisoner
with his heavy boot. His surprise was great when the Garment of
Repulsion arrested the blow and nearly overthrew the aggressor in turn.
Snatching a dagger from his sash, he bounded upon the boy so fiercely
that the next instant the enraged Turk found himself lying upon his
back three yards away, while his dagger flew through the air and landed
deep in the desert sands.

"Keep it up!" cried Rob, bitterly. "I hope you'll enjoy yourself."

The other Turks raised their comrade to his feet, and the three stared
at one another in surprise, being unable to understand how a bound
prisoner could so effectually defend himself. But at a whispered word
from the leader, they drew their long pistols and fired point blank
into Rob's face. The volley echoed sharply from the city walls, but as
the smoke drifted slowly away the Turks were horrified to see their
intended victim laughing at them.

Uttering cries of terror and dismay, the three took to their heels and
bounded towards the wall, where a gate quickly opened to receive them,
the populace feeling sure the Tatar horde was upon them.

Nor was this guess so very far wrong; for as Rob, sitting disconsolate
upon the sand, raised his eyes, he saw across the desert a dark line
that marked the approach of the invaders.

Nearer and nearer they came, while Rob watched them and bemoaned the
foolish impulse that had led him to fall asleep in an unknown land
where he could so easily be overpowered and robbed of his treasures.

"I always suspected these electrical inventions would be my ruin some
day," he reflected, sadly; "and now I'm side-tracked and left helpless
in this outlandish country, without a single hope of ever getting home
again. They probably won't be able to kill me, unless they find my
Garment of Repulsion and strip that off; but I never could cross this
terrible desert on foot and, having lost my food tablets, I'd soon
starve if I attempted it."

Fortunately, he had eaten one of the tablets just before going to
sleep, so there was no danger of immediate starvation. But he was
miserable and unhappy, and remained brooding over his cruel fate until
a sudden shout caused him to look up.

The Tatars had arrived, swiftly and noiselessly, and a dozen of the
warriors, still mounted, were surrounding him.

His helpless condition aroused their curiosity, and while some of them
hastily cut away his bonds and raised him to his feet, other plied him
with questions in their own language. Rob shook his head to indicate
that he could not understand; so they led him to the chief—an immense,
bearded representative of the tribe of Kara-Khitai, the terrible and
relentless Black Tatars of Thibet. The huge frame of this fellow was
clothed in flowing robes of cloth-of-gold, braided with jewels, and he
sat majestically upon the back of a jet-black camel.

Under ordinary circumstances the stern features and flashing black eyes
of this redoubtable warrior would have struck a chill of fear to the
boy's heart; but now under the influence of the crushing misfortunes he
had experienced, he was able to gaze with indifference upon the
terrible visage of the desert chief.

The Tatar seemed not to consider Rob an enemy. Instead, he looked upon
him as an ally, since the Turks had bound and robbed him.

Finding it impossible to converse with the chief, Rob took refuge in
the sign language. He turned his pockets wrong side out, showed the
red welts left upon his wrists by the tight cord, and then shook his
fists angrily in the direction of the town.

In return the Tatar nodded gravely and issued an order to his men.

By this time the warriors were busily pitching tents before the walls
of Yarkand and making preparations for a formal siege. In obedience to
the chieftain's orders, Rob was given a place within one of the tents
nearest the wall and supplied with a brace of brass-mounted pistols and
a dagger with a sharp, zigzag edge. These were evidently to assist the
boy in fighting the Turks, and he was well pleased to have them. His
spirits rose considerably when he found he had fallen among friends,
although most of his new comrades had such evil faces that it was
unnecessary to put on the Character Markers to judge their natures with
a fair degree of accuracy.

"I can't be very particular about the company I keep," he thought, "and
this gang hasn't tried to murder me, as the rascally Turks did. So for
the present I'll stand in with the scowling chief and try to get a shot
at the thieves who robbed me. If our side wins I may get a chance to
recover some of my property. It's a slim chance, of course, but it's
the only hope I have left."

That very evening an opportunity occurred for Rob to win glory in the
eyes of his new friends. Just before sundown the gates of the city
flew open and a swarm of Turks, mounted upon fleet horses and camels,
issued forth and fell upon their enemies. The Tatars, who did not
expect the sally, were scarcely able to form an opposing rank when they
found themselves engaged in a hand-to-hand conflict, fighting
desperately for their lives. In such a battle, however, the Turks were
at a disadvantage, for the active Tatars slipped beneath their horses
and disabled them, bringing both the animals and their riders to the
earth.

At the first onslaught Rob shot his pistol at a Turk and wounded him so
severely that he fell from his horse. Instantly the boy seized the
bridle and sprang upon the steed's back, and the next moment he had
dashed into the thickest part of the fray. Bullets and blows rained
upon him from all sides, but the Garment of Repulsion saved him from a
single scratch.

When his pistols had been discharged he caught up the broken handle of
a spear, and used it as a club, galloping into the ranks of the Turks
and belaboring them as hard as he could. The Tatars cheered and
followed him, and the Turks were so amazed at his miraculous escape
from their bullets that they became terrified, thinking he bore a
charmed life and was protected by unseen powers.

This terror helped turn the tide of battle, and before long the enemy
was pressed back to the walls and retreated through the gates, which
were hastily fastened behind them.

In order to prevent a repetition of this sally the Tatars at once
invested the gates, so that if the Turks should open them they were as
likely to let their foes in as to oppose them.

While the tents were being moved up Rob had an opportunity to search
the battlefield for the bodies of the three Turks who had robbed him,
but they were not among the fallen.

"Those fellows were too cowardly to take part in a fair fight,"
declared the boy; but he was much disappointed, nevertheless, as he
felt very helpless without the electric tube or the traveling machine.

The Tatar chief now called Rob to his tent and presented him with a
beautiful ring set with a glowing pigeon's-blood ruby, in
acknowledgment of his services. This gift made the boy feel very
proud, and he said to the chief:

"You're all right, old man, even if you do look like a pirate. If you
can manage to capture that city, so I can get my electrical devices
back, I'll consider you a trump as long as I live."

The chief thought this speech was intended to express Rob's gratitude,
so he bowed solemnly in return.

During the night that followed upon the first engagement of the Turks
and Tatars, the boy lay awake trying to devise some plan to capture the
city. The walls seemed too high and thick to be either scaled or
broken by the Tatars, who had no artillery whatever; and within the
walls lay all the fertile part of the oasis, giving the besieged a good
supply of water and provisions, while the besiegers were obliged to
subsist on what water and food they had brought with them.

Just before dawn Rob left his tent and went out to look at the great
wall. The stars gave plenty of light, but the boy was worried to find
that, according to Eastern custom, no sentries or guards whatever had
been posted and all the Tatars were slumbering soundly.

The city was likewise wrapped in profound silence, but just as Rob was
turning away he saw a head project stealthily over the edge of the wall
before him, and recognized in the features one of the Turks who had
robbed him.

Finding no one awake except the boy the fellow sat upon the edge of the
wall, with his feet dangling downward, and grinned wickedly at his
former victim. Rob watched him with almost breathless eagerness.