Adventure Magazine, April 10, 1924 — page 42: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

40 Adventure stroke their beards and to ask for fresh sug- gestions. A multitude of slaves were turned loose outgide the wall to dig the ditch. Across the canal at both entrances a chain was stretched, and a bridge of barges set in place inside the chain. Wooden para- pets were erected on the barges and detach- ments of archers told off to practise shoot- ing in triple ranks; the engines were greased with sheep’s fat, and new timbers shaped by craftsmen where the old were decayed. The chiefs of the Kankalis and Turko- mans were better skilled in leading their men on forays than in preparing for a siege, and the headmen of the city saw the worth of what Robert advised. The knight him- self, glad of something to do at last, went among the soldiers showing them by exam- ple what he wanted done. Meanwhile the councilors did not neglect to seize the cattle of the countryside and to fill up the granaries of the city. By the third evening the slaves had been joined by throngs of merchants and idlers, for it was known at last that the Moslem host under Muhammad had suffered at the hands of the barbarians, and that the Shah was actually in flight before the Mongols. He had with him a formidable army, and with Bokhara prepared for siege and the Shah to lead the defense the Moslems of the city had no fear of the outcome. That night Robert found a scroll from Abdullah awaiting him on the silver platter that bore his evening meal, in the tower room, The missive ran: F* © little son you have done well, and [ have not been idle. Gold, in Bokhara, is the key to all gates save that of the treasure, which is hidden. Your warders have pouched gold from my hand. On the morrow demand to be taken to the street, to stand in the crowd when Muhammad passes. Speak boldly when the time comes, for the devil had his paw on a timid man. With the first streak of sunrise the knight confided to Father Evagrius that Abdullah had appointed a meeting-place, for what purpose he did not know. He had been content to follow the hints given out by the minstrel, who seemed to wish to make known the worth of the man he had brought to Khar. ; He found that the three men-who were on guard in the corridor were quite prepared to take him down to the street. They wanted to watch the spectacle themselves, and Robert had- been allowed to go out before this. But the knight suspected they had been bribed. From the window he saw that the flat house-tops were lined with throngs of watchers and that carpets had been laid in the street through which Muhammad must pass to go to his palace; and before the guard had been changed, he perceived dust rising in a long line out on the plain. When the first horsemen entered the Otrar gate under the sightless eyes of the heads exposed there by order of the Shah, Robert was taken down to the garden and thence to the street where Osman’s follow- ers were jammed against the wall. His guards, anxious for a better view, elbowed their way forward with the knight, claiming that the wazir had ordered Robert to be displayed as his prisoner. Room was made for him in the outer line, and for hours he watched the passing of bodies of horsemen. These were strange to his sight—dark-skinned warriors, well mounted, who cursed the crowd when the way was obstructed. The ponies were sweat-streaked, and many of the riders bore wounds. Robert noticed that they had no spare mounts and no baggage. They looked like men who had been in the saddle throughout the night. The tumult in the street was echoed from the housetops when it was seen that the van of the cavalry did not halt at the river. Instead they crossed the bridge and passed out of the southern gate. The Bokharians mocked them for cowards who did not dare make a stand in the city, and the Shah’s men answered in kind. Other riders followed—Persian mailed archers, with high lambskin hats and bronze shields. One of the guards at Robert’s elbow shouted a question, which was an- swered by a blow from a scabbard. But rumors were buzzing in the crowd. “To Samarkand—the army goes to Samarkand! Nay, to Herat, for I heard— Allah, they lost their tents, and all but— To the mountains, I say—they draw ‘their reins to Khorassan.”’ Behind Robert the press grew greater. A gaunt Turkoman beg, smelling of sheep- skins, bared yellow teeth and roared in his ear: . “Pillage! The door is open to plunder! Death to the Franks!” COMmMiCLOookkS.CGO©