Summary

A. F. Mockler-Ferryman The Treasure of the Tigris: A Tale of Mesopotamia

Gladly would I help you to carry out the task imposed upon you; yet, I, Faris-ibn-Feyzul, Sheik of the Jelas Aeniza, who have faced death on countless occasions, and who would face it again at a moment's notice, out of pure love of fighting, I confess to you that I fear to have a hand in resuscitating the golden circlet. Mere death I count as nothing. All must die—whether it be sooner or whether it be later; and so long as I die, as every true Bedouin should, fighting the foes of his forefathers, I care nothing for myself.
Source: Gutenberg

A. F. Mockler-Ferryman The Treasure of the Tigris: A Tale of Mesopotamia

The sheik had hardly finished speaking before we heard a low wailing chant coming from beyond the fatal chamber. Spellbound, we stood and listened. Now the sound grew louder; now died away. Again it came clear and strong. It was a strange unearthly crooning; and, had I been alone, I should have fled from it. That I trembled I have no doubt, and Faris saw my fear.
"Courage, lad," he said, taking me by the arm. "It is someone in the temple beyond. Come, let us go and see. Death only comes once, and our fate has already been arranged for us. If we are to die to-day, then we shall die.
Source: Gutenberg

A. F. Mockler-Ferryman The Treasure of the Tigris: A Tale of Mesopotamia

Whether Raspul and his goddess heard that stamp no man can say; but, as if in response to it, there occurred the most fearful noise that has ever fallen on my ears. With a terrific crash, huge portions of the roof surrounding the hole rained down on the head of the unfortunate seer, who must have been instantly killed. Enormous masses of masonry hurtled on to the goddess, who, however, stood unmoved. At first, I imagined that the wrath of the gods had overtaken Faris and myself for my companion's thoughtless stamp, but why the faithful Raspul should have suffered I could not understand.
Source: Gutenberg

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