III
The Emir Alhaji Mohammadu, the Galadima Dawakin, Kudo of Kano, boiledfuriously within as his gold plated Rolls Royce progressed through theSaba N'Gari section of town, the quarter outside the dirt walls of themillennium old city. He rode seated alone in the middle of the rear seatand his single counselor sat beside the chauffeur. Before them, a jeepload of his bodyguard, dressed in their uniforms of red and green,cleared the way. Another jeep followed similarly laden.
They entered through one of the ancient gates and swept up the principalstreet. They stopped before the recently constructed luxury hotel in thecenter of town and the bodyguard leapt from the jeeps and took positionsto each side of the entry. The counselor popped out from his side of thecar and beat the chauffeur to the task of opening the Emir's door.
Emir Alhaji Mohammadu was a tall man and a heavy one, his white robedfigure towered some six and a half feet and his scales put him over thethree hundred mark. He was in his mid fifties and almost a quartercentury of autocratic position had marked his face with permanent scowl.He stomped now into the western style hotel.
His counselor, Ahmadu Abdullah, had already procured the informationnecessary to locate the source of the Emir's ire and now scurried beforehis chief, leading the way to the suite occupied by the mysteriousstrangers. He banged heavily on the door, then stepped behind his masteras it opened.
One of the strangers, clad western style, opened the door and steppedaside courteously motioning to the large inner room. The Emir struttedarrogantly inside and stared in high irritation at the second and elderstranger who sat there at a heavy table. This one came to his feet, butthere was no sign of acknowledgment of the Emir's rank. It was not toolong a time before that men prostrated themselves in Alhaji Mohammadu'spresence.
He looked at them. Though both were of dark complexion, there seemed nomanner of typing them. Certainly they were neither Hausa nor Fulani,there being no signs of Hamitic features, but neither were they Ibo orYoruba from farther south. The Emir's eyes narrowed and he wondered ifthese two were Nigerians at all!
He barked at them in Hausa and the older answered him in the samelanguage, though there seemed a certain awkwardness in its use.
Emir Alhaji Mohammadu blared, "You dare summon me, Kudo of this city?You presume--"
They had resumed seats behind the table and the two of them looked athim questioningly. The older one interrupted with a gently raised hand."Why did you come?"
Still glaring, the Emir turned to the cringing Ahmadu Abdullah andmotioned curtly for the counselor to speak. Meanwhile, the ruler's eyeswent around the room, decided that the couch was the only seat thatwould accommodate his bulk, and descended upon it.
Ahmadu Abdullah brought a paper from the folds of his robes. "This lyingletter. This shameless attack upon the Galadima Dawakin!"
The younger stranger said mildly, "If the charges contained there areincorrect, then why did you come?"
The Emir rumbled dangerously, ignoring the question. "What is yourpurpose? I am not a patient man. There has never been need for mypatience."
The spokesman of the two, the older, leaned back in his chair and saidcarefully, "We have come to demand your resignation and self-exile."
A vein beat suddenly and wildly at the gigantic Emir's temple and for afull minute the potentate was speechless with outrage.
Ahmadu Abdullah said quickly, "Fantastic! Ridiculous! The GaladimaDawakin is lawful ruler and religious potentate of three million devotedfollowers. You are lying strangers come to cause dissention among thepeople of Kano and--"
The spokesman for the newcomers took up a sheaf of papers from the tableand said, his voice emotionless, "The reason you came here at ourrequest is because the charges made in that letter you bear are validones. For a quarter century, you, Alhaji Mohammadu, have milked yourpeople to your own profit. You have lived like a god on the wealth youhave extracted from them. You have gone far, far beyond the legal andeven traditional demands you have on the local population. Fundssupposedly to be devoted to education, sanitation, roads, hospitals anda multitude of other developments that would improve this wholebenighted area, have gone into your private pocket. In short, you havebeen a cancer on your people for the better part of your life."
"All lies!" roared the Kudo.
The other shook his head. "No. We have carefully gathered proof. We cansubmit evidence to back every charge we have made. Above all, we canprove the existence of large sums of money you have smuggled out of thecountry to Switzerland, London and New York to create a reserve foryourself in case of emergency. Needless to say, these funds, too, wereoriginally meant for the betterment of the area."
The Emir's eyes were narrow with hate. "Who are you? Whom do yourepresent?"
"What difference does it make? This is of no importance."
"You represent my son, Alhaji Fodio! This is what comes of his studiesin England and America. This is what comes of his leaving Kano andspending long years in Lagos among those unbeliever communists in thesouth!"
The younger stranger chuckled easily. "That is about the last tag Iwould hang on your son's associates," he said in English.
But the older stranger was nodding. "It is true that we hope your sonwill take over the Emirate. He represents progress. Frankly, his plansare to end the office as soon as the people are educated to the pointwhere they can accept such change."
"End the office!" the Emir snarled. "For a thousand years myancestors--"
* * * * *
The spokesman of the strangers shook his head wearily. "Your ancestorsconquered this area less than two centuries ago in a jehad led by OthmanDan. Since then, you Fulani have feudalistically dominated the Hausa,but that is coming to an end."
The Emir had come to his feet again, in his rage, and now he toweredover the table behind which the two sat as though about to physicallyattack them. "You speak as fools," he raged.
"Are you so stupid as to believe that these matters you have brought upare understandable to my people? Have you ever seen my people?" Hesneered in a caricature of humor. "My people in their grass and bushhuts? With not one man in a whole village who can add sums higher thanthose he can work out on his fingers? With not one man who can read theEnglish tongue, nor any other? Would you explain to these the matters oftransferring gold to the Zuerich banks? Would you explain to these whatis involved in accepting dash from road contractors and from politiciansin Lagos?"
He sneered at them again. "And do you realize that I am church as wellas state? That I represent their God to my people? Do you think theywould take your word against _mine_, their Kudo?"
In talking, he had brought a certain calm back to himself. Now he feltreassured at his own words. He wound it up. "You are fools to believe mypeople could understand such matters."
"Then actually, you don't deny them?"
"Why should I bother?" the Emir chuckled heavily.
"That you have taken for personal use the large sums granted this areafrom a score of sources for roads, hospitals, schools, sanitation,agricultural modernization?"
"Of course I don't deny it. This is my land. I am the Kudo, the Emir,the Galadima Dawakin. Whatever I choose to do in Kano and to all mypeople is right because I wish it. Schools? I don't want them corruptingmy people. Hospitals for these Hausa serfs? Nonsense! Roads? They arebad for they allow the people to get about too easily and that leads totheir exchanging ideas and schemes and leads to their corruption. Have Iappropriated all such sums for my own use? Yes! I admit it. Yes! But youcannot prove it to such as my people, you who represent my son. Sobe-gone from Kano. If you are here tomorrow, you will be arrested by thesame men of my bodyguard who even now seek my son, Alhaji Fodio. When heis captured, it will be of interest to revive some of the methods ofexecution of my ancestors."
The Emir turned on his heel to stalk from the room but the older of thetwo murmured, "One moment, please."
Alhaji Mohammadu paused, his face dark in scowl again.
/> The spokesman said agreeably, "It is true that your people, andparticularly your Hausa serfs, have no understanding of internationalfinance nor of national corruption methods such as the taking of _dash_.However, they are susceptible to other proof." The other man raised hisvoice. "John!"
From an inner room came another stranger, making their total numberthree. He was grinning and in one hand held a contraption which boasteda conglomeration of lenses, switches, microphones, wires and triggers."Got it perfectly," he said. You'd think it had all been rehearsed.
While the Emir and his counselor stared in amazement, the spokesman ofthe strangers said, "How long before you can project?"
"Almost immediately."
The other young man left the room and returned with what was obviously amovie projector. He set it up at one end of the table, pointed at awhite wall, and plugged it in to a convenient outlet.
Before the Emir had managed to control himself beyond the point ofsaying any more than, "What is all this?" the cameraman had brought amagazine of film from his instrument and inserted it in the projector.
The photographer said conversationally, to the hulking potentate, "You'dbe amazed at the advances in cinema these past few years. Film speed,immediate development, portable sound equipment. You'd be amazed."
Someone flicked out the greater part of the room's light. The projectorbuzzed and on the wall was thrown a re-enactment of everything that hadbeen said and done in the room for the past ten minutes.
When it was over, the lights went on again.
The spokesman said conversationally, "I assume that if this film wereshown throughout the villages, even your Hausa serfs would be convincedthat throughout your reign you have systematically robbed them."
Emir Alhaji Mohammadu, the Galadima Dawakin, Kudo of Kano, his face inshock, turned and stumbled from the room.
* * * * *
The gymkhana, or fantasia as it is called in nearby Morocco, was underfull swing before Abd-el-Kader and the camel- and horse-mounted warriorsof his Ouled Touameur clan came dashing in, rifles held high and withgreat firing into the air. The Ouled Touameur were the noblest clan ofthe Ouled Allouch tribe of the Berazga division of the Chaambra nomadconfederation--the noblest and the least disciplined. There werewhispered rumors going about the conference as to the identity of themysterious raiders who were preying upon the new oases, the oil and roadbuilding camps and the endless other new projects springing up, all butmagically, throughout the northwestern Sahara.
The gymkhana was in full swing with racing and feasting, andstorytellers and conjurers, jugglers and marabouts. And in the air wasthe acrid distinctive odor of _kif_, for though Mohammed forbade alcoholto the faithful he had naught to say about the uses of _cannabis sativa_and what is a great festival without the smoking of _kif_ and the eatingof _majoun_?
The tribes of the Chaambra were widely represented, Berazga and Mouadhi,Bou Rouba and Ouled Fredj, and there was even a heavy sprinkling of thesedentary Zenatas come down from the towns of Metlili, El Oued and ElGoleo. Then, of course, were the Haratin serfs, of mixed Arab-Negroblood, and the Negroes themselves, until recently openly called slaves,but now--amusingly--named servants.
The Chaambra were meeting for a great ceremonial gymkhanas, but also, aswas widely known, for a _djemaa el kebar_ council of elders and chiefs,for there were many problems throughout the Western Erg and the areas ofMzab and Bourara. Nor was it secret only to the inner councils that themeeting had been called by Abd-el-Kader, of Shorfu blood, directdescendent of the Prophet through his daughter Fatima, and symbol to theyoung warriors of Chaambra spirit.
Of all the Ouled Touameur clan Abd-el-Kader alone refrained fromdischarging his gun into the air as they dashed into the inner circle ofkhaima tents which centered the gymkhana and provided council chambers,dining hall and sleeping quarters for the tribal and clan heads.Instead, and with head arrogantly high, he slipped from his stalliontossing the reins to a nearby Zenata and strode briskly to the largestof the tents and disappeared inside.
_Bismillah!_ but Adb-el-Kader was a figure of a man! From his turban,white as the snows of the Atlas, to his yellow leather boots, he worethe traditional clothing of the Chaambra and wore them with pride. Notfor Abd-el-Kader the new clothing from the Rouma cities to the north,nor even the new manufactures from Dakar, Accra, Lagos and the othermushrooming centers to the south.
His weapons alone paid homage to the new ways. And each fighting manwithin eyesight noted that it was not a rifle slung over the shoulder ofAbd-el-Kader but a sub-machine gun. Bismillah! This could not have beenso back in the days when the French Camel Corps ruled the land with itshand of iron.
The djemaa el kebar was already in session, seated in a great circle onthe rug and provided with glasses of mint tea and some with water pipes.They looked up at the entrance of the warrior clan chieftain.
* * * * *
El Aicha, who was of Maraboutic ancestry and hence a holy man as well aselder of the Ouled Fredj, spoke first as senior member of theconference. "We have heard reports that are disturbing of recent months,Abd-el-Kader. Reports of activities amongst the Ouled Touameur. We wouldknow more of the truth of these. But also we have high interest in yourreason for summoning the djemaa el kebar at such a time of year."
Abd-el-Kader made a brief gesture of obeisance to the Chaambra leader, agesture so brief as to verge on disrespect. He said, his voice clear andconfident, as befits a warrior chief, "Disturbing only to the old andunvaliant, O El Aicha."
The old man looked at him for a long, unblinking moment. As a youth, hehad fought at the Battle of Tit when the French Camel Corps had brokenforever the military power of the Ahaggar Tuareg. El Aicha was nocoward. There were murmurings about the circle of elders.
But when El Aicha spoke again, his voice was level. "Then speak to us,Abd-el-Kader. It is well known that your voice is heard ever more by theyoung men, particularly by the bolder of the young men."
The fighting man remained standing, his legs slightly spread. The Arab,like the Amerind, likes to make speech in conference, and eloquence iswell held by the Chaambra.
"Long years ago, and only shortly after the death of the Prophet, theChaambra resided, so tell the scribes, in the hills of far away Syria.But when the word of Islam was heard and the true believers began torace their strength throughout all the world, the Chaambra came here tothe deserts of Africa and here we have remained. Long centuries it tookus to gain control of the wide areas of the northern and western desertand many were the battles we fought with our traditional enemies theTuareg and the Moors before we controlled all the land between the Atlasand the Niger and from what is now known as Tunisia to Mauritania."
All nodded. This was tribal history.
Abd-el-Kader held up four fingers on which to enumerate. "The Chaambrawere ever men. Warriors, bedouin; not for us the cities and villages ofthe Zenatas, and the miserable Haratin serfs. We Chaambra have ever beenmen of the tent, warriors, conquerors!"
El Aicha still nodded. "That was before," he murmured.
"That will always be!" Abd-el-Kader insisted. His four fingers werespread and he touched the first one. "Our life was based upon, one, warand the spoils of war." He touched the second finger. "Two, the toll weextracted from the caravans that passed from Timbuktu to the north andback again. Three, from our own caravans which covered the desert trailsfrom Tripoli to Dakar and from Marrakech to Kano. And fourth"--hetouched his last finger--"from our flocks which fed us in thewilderness." He paused to let this sink in.
"All this is verily true," muttered one of the elders, a _so-what_quality in his voice.
Abd-el-Kader's tone soured. "Then came the French with their weapons andtheir multitudes of soldiers and their great wealth with which to pursuethe expenses of war. And one by one the Tuareg and the Teda to the southand the Moors and Nemadi, yes, and even the Chaambra fell before theonslaughts of the Camel Corps and their wild-dog Foreign Legion." Hehel
d up his four fingers again and counted them off. "The four legs uponwhich our life was based were broken. War and its spoils was preventedus. The tolls we charged caravans to cross our land were forbidden. Andthen, shortly after, came the motor trucks which crossed the desert in aweek, where formerly the journey took as much as a year. Our camelcaravans became meaningless."
Again all nodded. "Verily, the world changes," someone muttered.
The warrior leader's voice went dramatic. "We were left with naught butour flocks, and now even they are fated to end."
The elderly nomads stirred and some scowled.
"At every water hole in the desert teams of the new irrigationdevelopment dig their wells, install their pumps which bring power fromthe sun, plant trees, bring in Haratin and former slaves--_our_slaves--to cultivate the new oases. And we are forbidden the water forthe use of our goats and sheep and camels."
"Besides," one of the clan chiefs injected, "they tell us that the goatis the curse of North Africa, nibbling as it does the bark of smalltrees, and they attempt to purchase all goats until soon there will befew, if any, in all the land."
"So our young people," Abd-el-Kader pressed on, "stripped of our formerway of life, go to the new projects, enroll in the schools, take work inthe new oases or on the roads, and disappear from the sight of theirkinsmen." He came to a sudden halt and all but glared at them,maintaining his silence until El Aicha stirred.
"And--?" El Aicha said. This was all obviously but preliminary.
Abd-el-Kader spoke softly now, and there was a different drama in hisvoice. "And now," he said, "the French are gone. All the Rouma, save ahandful, are gone. In the south the English are gone from the lands ofthe blacks, such as Nigeria and Ghana, Sierra Leone and Gambia. TheItalians are gone from Libya and Somaliland and the Spanish from Rio deOro. Nor will they ever return for in the greatest council of all theRouma they have decided to leave Africa to the African."
They all stirred again and some muttered and Abd-el-Kader pushed hispoint. "The Chaambra are warriors born. Never serfs! Never slaves! Neverhave we worked for any man. Our ancestors carved great empires by thesword." His voice lowered again. "And now, once more, it is possible tocarve such an empire."
He swept his eyes about their circle. "Chiefs of the Chaambra, there isno force in all the Sahara to restrain us. Let others work on the roads,planting the new trees in the new oases, damming the great Niger, andall the rest of it. We will sweep over them, and dominate all. We, theChaambra, will rule, while those whom Allah intended to drudge, do so.We, the Chosen of Allah, will fulfill our destiny!"
* * * * *
Abd-el-Kader left it there and crossed his arms on his chest, staring atthem challengingly.
Finally El Aicha directed his eyes across the circle of listeners at twowho had sat silently through it all, their burnooses covering theirheads and well down over their eyes. He said, "And what do you say toall this?"
"Time to go into your act, man," Abe Bakr muttered, under his breath.
Homer Crawford came to his feet and pushed back the hood of theburnoose. He looked over at the headman of the Ouled Touameur warriorclan, whose face was darkening.
In Arabic, Crawford said, "I have sought you for some time,Abd-el-Kader. You are an illusive man."
"Who are you, Negro?" the fighting man snapped.
Crawford grinned at the other. "You look as though you have a bit ofNegro blood in your own veins. In fact, I doubt if there's a so-calledArab in all North Africa, unless he's just recently arrived, whosefamily hasn't down through the centuries mixed its blood with the localpeople they conquered."
"You lie!"
Abe chuckled from the background. The Chaambra leader was at least asdark of complexion as the American Negro. Not that it made anydifference one way or the other.
"We shall see who is the liar here," Homer Crawford said flatly. "Youasked who I am. I am known as Omar ben Crawf and I am headman of a teamof the African Development Project of the Reunited Nations. As you havesaid, Abd-el-Kader, this great council of the headmen of all the nationsof the world--not just the Rouma--has decided that Africa must be leftto the Africans. But that does not mean it has lost all interest inthese lands. It has no intention, warrior of the Chaambra, to allow suchas you to disrupt the necessary progress Africa must make if it is notto become a danger to the shaky peace of the world."
Abd-el-Kader's eyes darted about the tent. So far as he could see, theother was backed only by his single henchman. The warrior chief gainedconfidence. "Power is for those who can assert it. Some will rule. Ithas always been so. Here in the Western Erg, the Chaambra will rule, andI, Abd-el-Kader will lead them!"
Homer Crawford was shaking his head, almost sadly it seemed. "No," hesaid. "The day of rule by the gun is over. It must be over because atlong last man's weapons have become so great that he must not trusthimself with them. In the new world which is still aborning so that halfthe nations of earth are in the pains of labor, government must be bythe most wise and most capable."
In a deft move the sub-machine gun's sling slipped from the desert man'sshoulder and the short, vicious gun was in hand. "The strong will alwaysrule!" the Arab shouted. "Time was when the French conquered theChaambra, but the French have allowed their strength to ebb away, andnow, armed with such weapons as these, we of the Sahara will againassert our birthright as the Chosen of Allah!"
Abe Baker chuckled. "That cat sure can lay on a speech, man." As thoughmagically, a snub-nosed hand weapon of unique design appeared in hisdark hand.
El Aicha's voice was suddenly strong and harsh. "There shall be noviolence at a djemaa el kebar."
Homer ignored the automatic weapon in the hands of the excited Arab. Hesaid, and there was still a sad quality in his voice. "The gun you carryis a nothing-weapon, desert man. When the French conquered this landmore than a century ago they were armed with single-shot rifles whichwere still far in advance of your own long barrelled flintlocks. Today,you are proud of that tommy gun you carry, and, indeed, it has the firepower of a company of the Foreign Legion of a century past. However,believe me, Abd-el-Kader, it is a nothing-weapon compared to those thatwill be brought against the Chaambra if they heed your words."
The desert leader put back his head and laughed his scorn.
He chopped his laughter short and snapped, more to the council of chiefsthan to the stranger. "Then we will seize such weapons and use themagainst those who would oppose us. In the end it is the strong who winin war, and the Rouma have gone soft, as all men know. I, Abd-el-Kaderwill have these two killed and then I shall announce to the assembledtribes the new jedah, a Holy War to bring the Chosen of Allah once againto their rightful position in the Sahara."
"Man," Abe Baker murmured pleasantly, "you're going to be one awfuldisappointed cat before long."
El Aicha said mildly, "Such decisions are for the djemaa el kebar tomake, O Abd-el-Kader, not for a single chief of the Ouled Touameur."
The desert warrior chief sneered openly at the old man. "Decisions aremade by those with the strength to enforce them. The young men of theChaambra support me, and my men surround this tent."
"So do mine," Homer Crawford said decisively. "And I have come to arrestyou and take you to Columb-Bechar where you will be tried for yourparticipation in recent raids on various development projects."
El Aicha repeated his earlier words. "There shall be no violence at adjemaa el kebar."
The Ouled Touameur chief's eyes had narrowed. "You are not strong enoughto take me."
* * * * *
In English, Abe Baker said, "Like maybe these young followers of thiscat need an example laid on them, man."
"I'm afraid you're right," Crawford growled disgustedly.
The younger American came to his feet. "I'll take him on," Abe said.
"No, he's nearer to my size," Crawford grunted. He turned to El Aicha,and said in Arabic, "I demand the right of a stranger in your camp to at
rial by combat."
"On what grounds?" the old man scowled.
"That my manhood has been spat upon by this warrior who does hisfighting with his loud mouth."
The assembled chiefs looked to Abd-el-Kader, and a rustling sigh wentthrough them. A hundred times the wiry desert chieftain had provenhimself the most capable fighter in the tribes. A hundred times he hadproven it and there were dead and wounded in the path he had cut forhimself.
Abd-el-Kader laughed aloud again. "Swords, in the open before theascan."
Homer Crawford shrugged. "Swords, in the open before the assembledChaambra so that they may see how truly weak is the one who callshimself so strong."
Abe said worriedly, in English, "Listen, man, you been checked out onswords?"
"They're the traditional weapon in the Arab _code duello_," Homer said,with a wry grin. "Nothing else would do."
"Man, you sound like you've been blasting pot and got yourself as highas those cats out there with their _kif_. This Abd-el-Kader was probablyraised with a sword in his hand."
Abd-el-Kader smiling triumphantly, had spun on his heel and made his waythrough the tent's entrance. Now they could hear him shouting orders.
El Aicha looked up at Homer Crawford from where he sat. His voicewithout inflection, he said, "Hast thou a sword, Omar ben Crawf?"
"No," Crawford said.
The elderly tribal leader said, "Then I shall loan you mine." Hehesitated momentarily, before adding, "Never before has hand other thanmine wielded it." And finally, simply, "Never has it been drawn tocommit dishonor."
"I am honored."
Outside, the rumors had spread fast and already a great arena wasforming by the packed lines of Chaambra nomads. At the tent entrance,Elmer Allen, his face worried, said, his English in characteristicJamaican accent, "What did you chaps do?"
"Duel," Abe growled apprehensively. "This joker here has challengedtheir top swordsman to a fight."
Elmer said hurriedly, "See here, gentlemen, the hovercraft are parkedover behind that tent. We can be there in two minutes and away from--"
Crawford's eyes went from Elmer Allen to Abe Baker and then back again.He chuckled, "I don't think you two think I'm going to win this fight,"he said.
"What do you know about swordsmanship?" Elmer Allen said accusingly.
"Practically nothing. A little bayonet practice quite a few years ago."
"Oh, great," Abe muttered.
Elmer said hurriedly, "See here, Homer, I was on the college fencingteam and--"
Crawford grinned at him. "Too late, friend."
As they talked, they made their way to the large circle of men. In itscenter, Abd-el-Kader was stripping to his waist, meanwhile laughinglyshouting his confidence to his Ouled Touameur tribesmen and to the otherChaambra of fighting age. No one seemed to doubt the final issue.Beneath his white burnoose he wore a gandoura of lightweight woolencloth and beneath that a longish undershirt of white cotton, similar tothat of the Tuareg but with shorter and less voluminous sleeves. Thisthe desert fighter retained.
Crawford stripped down too, nude to the waist. His body was in excellenttrim, muscles bunching under the ebony skin. A Haratin servant came upbearing El Aicha's sword.
Homer Crawford pulled it from the scabbard. It was of scimitar type, theweapon which had once conquered half the known world.
From within the huge circle of men, Abd-el-Kader swung his own blade inflashing arcs and called out something undoubtedly insulting, but whichwas lost in the babble of the multitude.
"Well, here we go," Crawford grunted. "You fellows better stationyourselves around just on the off chance that those Ouled Touameurbully-boys don't like the decision."
"We'll worry about that," Abe said unhappily. "You just see you get outof this in one piece. Anything happens to you and the head office'llmake me head of this team--and frankly, man I don't want the job."
Homer grinned at him, and began pushing his way through to the center.
* * * * *
The Arab cut a last switch in the air, with his whistling blade andstarted forward, in practiced posture. Homer awaited him, legs spreadslightly, his hands extended slightly, the sword held at the ready butwith point low.
Abe Baker growled, unhappily, "He said he didn't know anything about theswords, and the way he holds it bears him out. That Arab'll cut Homer toribbons. Maybe we ought to do something about it." As usual, understress, he'd dropped his beatnik patter.
Elmer Allen looked at him. "Such as what? There are at least threethousand of these tribesmen chaps here watching their favorite sport.What did you have in mind doing?"
Abd-el-Kader hadn't remained the victor of a score of similar duelsthrough making such mistakes as underestimating his foe. In spite of theblack stranger's seeming ignorance of his weapon, the Arab had nointention of being sucked into a trap. He advanced with care.
His sword darted forward, quickly, experimentally, and Homer Crawfordbarely caught its razor edge on his own.
Save for his own four companions, the crowd laughed aloud. None amongthem were so clumsy as this.
The Ouled Touameur chief was convinced. He stepped in fast, the bladeflicked in and out in a quick feint, then flicked in again. HomerCrawford countered clumsily.
And then there was a roar as the American's blade left his hand and flewhigh in the air to come to the ground again a score of feet behind thedesert swordsman.
For a brief moment Abd-el-Kader stepped back to observe his foe, andthere was mockery in his face. "So thy manhood has been spat upon by onewho fights only with his mouth! Almost, braggart, I am inclined to giveyou your life so that you may spend the rest of it in shame. Now die,unbeliever!"
Crawford stood hopelessly, in a semicrouch, his hands still slightlyforward. The Arab came in fast, his sword at the ready for the deathstroke.
Suddenly, the American moved forward and then jumped a full yard intothe air, feet forward and into the belly of the advancing Arab. Theheavily shod right foot struck at the point in the abdomen immediatelybelow the sternum, the solar plexus, and the left was as low as thegroin. In a motion that was almost a bounce off the other's body,Crawford came lithely back to his feet, jumped back two steps, crouchedagain.
But Abd-el-Kader was through, his eyes popping agony, his body writhingon the ground. The whole thing, from the time the Arab had advanced onthe disarmed man for the kill, hadn't taken five seconds.
His groans were the only sounds which broke the unbelieving silence ofthe Chaambra tribesmen. Homer Crawford picked up the fallen leader'ssword and then strolled over and retrieved that of El Aicha. IgnoringAbd-el-Kader, he crossed to where the tribal elders had assembled towatch the fight and held out the borrowed sword to its owner.
El Aicha sheathed it while looking into Homer Crawford's face. "It hasstill never been drawn to commit dishonor."
"My thanks," Crawford said.
Over the noise of the crowd which now was beginning to murmur itsincredulity at their champion's fantastic defeat, came the voice of AbeBaker swearing in Arabic and yelling for a way to be cleared for him. Hewas driving one of the hovercraft.
He drew it up next to the still agonized Abd-el-Kader and got outaccompanied by Bey-ag-Akhamouk. Silently and without undue roughnessthey picked up the fallen clan chief and put him into the back of thehover-lorry, ignoring the crowd.
Homer Crawford came up and said in English, "All right, let's get out ofhere. Don't hurry, but on the other hand don't let's prolong it. One ofthose Ouled Touameur might collect himself to the point of deciding heought to rescue his leader."
Abe looked at him disgustedly. "Like, where'd you learn that littleparty trick, man?"
Crawford yawned. "I said I didn't know anything about swords. You didn'task me about judo. I once taught judo in the Marines."
"Well, why didn't you take him sooner? He like to cut your head off withthat cheese knife before you landed on him."
"I couldn't do it sooner. Not until h
e knocked the sword out of my hand.Until then it was a sword fight. But as soon as I had no sword then inthe eyes of every Chaambra present, I had the right to use any methodpossible to save myself."
Bey-ag-Akhamouk looked up at the sun to check the time. "We better speedit up if we want to get this man to Columb-Bechar and then get on downover the desert to Timbuktu and that meeting."
"Let's go," Homer said. The second hovercraft joined them, driven byElmer Allen, and they made their way through the staring, butmotionless, crowds of Chaambra.