Harold Lamb

“ There isn't any magic. Anyone who gets himself lost in the Gobi is gone, sure enough. And as for the noises—the moving sands sound queer, sometimes."
But then he thought of Mo Yan and the horsemen he had seen passing at night against the stars on the skyline when he was camped in a hollow out of reach of the wind. He did not speak of that. In fact he seldom had anyone to talk to except himself. Black Gordon, a man of his hands, and a crack shot, had a level head. Then, too, the spell of the desert was on him, as it does hold a man, whether in the uplands of Arizona or the Gobi. ”

“ I know nothing about an American girl-child."
"But," persisted Rand, frowning, "you can search the bazaars of Lanchow."
Mo Yan shook his head slightly, and his eyes flickered at the mandarin by the door. "If this child of Mr. Eldridge is in Lanchow I would know it. The time to pay my men money to search is when the money is due. Now it is too late, as I said."
Malicious triumph rang in the words, and Gordon's teeth set with an audible snap. "You mean—has anything happened to Betty?" The fingers of his right hand twitched upward as Mo Yan's lifeless eyes met his. ”

“ But there was something ominous about the man, and Gordon's instinct warned him that it would not be well to touch the leather apron that hung from the conjure 's loins, covering his knees and feet.
"If ever I saw a man honing himself for a fight," the hunter muttered, "Sham is that man. He's making war medicine, drum and all. Come along, Rand, we are losing time."
"Good heavens!" The professor looked up anxiously. "Do you think it could have been Sham I shot at, on the caravan road? These Mongols are like gypsies; they never forget a kindness or an injury. ”

“ The one nation, you know, that shut itself off from the world, as if it were still the Middle Ages. Only Mo Yan is no longer ignorant. He knows the white man's magic—weapons. Machine guns."
"And, he has the white man's learning. He's a mixed breed, Rand."
Mildly the man from Chengtu blinked at the moths buzzing around the lamp. "Billy, he's the breed that built the pyramids."
Applying a match to the bowl of his pipe, Gordon waited for an explanation of this.
"Mo Yan," went on Rand, "is making himself a power, through fear. ”

“ Rand heard a sound behind him, the mandarin's hand on the door knob. Mo Yan was silent, watchful as a cat.
"You took that little girl," went on the hunter slowly, "and you have her here. As things stand, we'll pay you what you want and take her home. We're making this offer just once. Do you accept or not?"
Mo Yan closed his eyes as if thinking, and gently shook his head. It took courage to do that, but the man seemed not to have the least fear. "I said it was too late. You white men are stupid, you cannot learn from the wisdom of others. You must be taught. ”

“ From it came a gripping and disgusting smell that Black Gordon knew. With difficulty he reined his pony close enough to inspect the box. He was looking into the swollen face of a dead man, its chin perched on the logs at the top of the wooden cage that had kept the unfortunate a prisoner until he died of hunger or thirst.
Gordon was uncomfortably conscious of small, animate things that had slipped out of the cage, away from the body at his approach. Rats, he supposed. The body itself was small in stature and covered with a sheepskin alive with ants. ”

“ He extended a slip of plain paper to the hunter.
"‘The Wisdom of the East. ... What is lost is lost. A fool will lose what he has in seeking that which he has not.’"
"Clear as mud," grunted the hunter. "No Mongol ever wrote that."
"And yet, the Chinese around here fear Mo Yan. Witness their flight from this house, and the fact that they refuse to talk in the villages about him."
"Add to Mo Yan's pedigree," nodded Gordon, "that he beats a drum."
Recalling the Mongol shaman that he had befriended, Gordon paused, but only for an instant. ”

“ A major-domo, a tall Chinese, with a persuasive smile, announced that his excellency, Mo Yan, taotai of the Gobi, felt that his poor and insufficient house was rich indeed in such guests. They were served with an excellent dinner, European dishes mingled with the countless Chinese tid-bits of ancient usage; their room had a real bed and mosquito netting.
"It beats me," Black Gordon confessed the next day. "Mo Yan has taken a caravanserai and made it into a palace hotel. ”

“ Some said that Black Gordon gained his nickname from a deadly temper, and that the man had known how to manipulate three cards, as well as the five of a poker hand in his youth. Too, it was said that Black Gordon was quick on the draw; in former days he had carried a derringer slung under one armpit. For years, however, no man had seen the desert rider carry anything except a rifle, and now he was quiet—slow to anger. ”

“ Deprecatingly he waved two fingers of one hand. "He does not claim your skill—with—the rifle Mr. Gordon. I see your rifle is fouled with sand. May I suggest that Mo Yan has an excellent gunsmith who will take down your pieces and clean them."
Rand was about to object, when Gordon checked him. The hunter observed that the rifles were, in fact, filled with sand, though he did not know how it had been done.
"Listen, Professor," he whispered. "So far we are a set-up for Mo Yan. These beggars are laughing at us. That butler guy is no servant; he's a mandarin. ”

“ WATER GIVEN TO A MAN OF THE DESERT MAY WORK MUCH MAGIC—BACK THERE AT THE EARTH'S END, THE HINTERLANDS OF CHINA
BILL GORDON, called Black Gordon because he had sun bleached hair and light eyes, was in a hurry. For one thing, he wished to be out of the desert. It was no longer safe for him. And then, too, he wanted to meet up with his chum, Tom Eldridge.
It is not so easy to leave the Gobi desert in a hurry. Gordon knew this. He did not try to make speed, but he made time. For a night and the better part of a day he had been in the saddle of the shaggy Mongolian pony. ”

“ Mongols, and Chinese also, have a horror of death without burial. It struck him suddenly that the old native would die anyway, if he went on. The half cup of water would not keep him alive long.
Gordon took off his coat and drew the small spade from behind his saddle. Pushing the conjurer aside he fell to work, standing in the hole and tossing out the loosened clay. After a while the native began to push and pull the piled up earth further from the hole, so that the white man would not have to throw it so high. ”

“ Gordon means," explained Rand quickly, "is that we will pay the money owed you by Mr. Eldridge, in payment of a certain duty on kerosene. We hope that this will enable you to make search for the child, who is missing, and who may be in Lanchow."
As he spoke he glanced warningly at the hunter. If Mo Yan were Chinese, they must offer him the chance to escape from blame, if they were to recover the missing girl; he must be allowed to save his face. The European garments, the sallow skin of the tall man at the desk, made it difficult to judge his race, or nationality. ”

“ Gordon did not move. "That is the child we claim as ours."
The expressionless eyes of the Tibetan glowed, and, craving to hear the white men beg for mercy, he signed to the men to loosen the strangler's cord. Gordon was edging his end of the seat nearer the table where the candles stood. "Talk to him, Rand," he whispered fiercely. ”

“ She shall go to join the sleepers who walk the earth no more."
Fleetingly, he glanced at the white men, and Rand translated his speech to the hunter.
"The criminals who die in Lanchow will be put in the cage of oblivion by the caravan way, after execution, so that all who pass may know it is the will of Mo Yan. Unbind the maid and place on her throat the cord of mercy."
Gordon had time to realize that the taotai was probably speaking the truth. Clad perhaps in native garments, he planned to place their three bodies where the rats, and the ants could obliterate all traces of their identity. ”

“ Gordon noticed that the weapons were nearly all of different makes.
"Ask the butler if Mo Yan goes after much big game around here," he suggested to Rand.
"The Mongols of the desert are unruly, honorable sirs," their guide informed them blandly, but meaningly. "In such a place as this, beyond the authority of Pekin, one must take thought for personal safety. Outlaws must be punished. But one who is not a fool will not seek to attack Mo Yan. ”

“ Sham's tongue began to clack again and Rand listened with growing interest.
"The beggar's giving us his pedigree. Says he's a shaman of the desert Mongols, and has a son who is wiser than he. As nearly as I can make out he learned from his son that it would be dangerous for us to go to Lanchow. Sham, as you call him, came to this place because tez bazin-yat, the ancestor spirit, called. Tez basin-yat was or is angered.
"Sham's family deity is the bear. He was running, in spirit, with the bear spirit when we interrupted the magic. When he runs like that he is hungry. At such times, he feeds. ”

“ Nothing he could do would make whole again the injured girl. So, reluctantly, Black Gordon walked through the circle, seeking his friend, and wondering whether the crippling of the Mongol woman was not intended to warn him of the fate that awaited Betty Eldridge. The effect upon the desert rider was to stir within him a cold wave of anger that would not endure further delay in coming to grips with Mo Yan. ”

“ Rand looked up quizzically. He saw that the desert rider was tired bodily and mentally, but Gordon's face reassured him. "It may not be the safest trek in the world, you know. We are about a thousand miles from the nearest British consul."
"Two thousand from an American gun-boat, which is more to the point," grinned Gordon. "And I know that Lanchow lies outside the back door of China. And that's a first-rate reason for not pestering the Chinese authorities about an investigation. I have a debt to square with Mo Yan, I think. Did you ever shoot a rifle, Professor?" ”

“ The Half Way House RIDING in from the open plains, Black Gordon always stopped at Tom Eldridge's house. By the very few white men who ventured beyond the Kansu mountains to the Gobi and returned to China, the go-down of Eldridge was known as the Half Way House because it was the last abode of a white man. ”

“ Then, as if he had found what he was looking for, he smiled.
"A good gunsmith you have, Mo Yan. He has filed down the sear notch so the trigger functions beautifully—without setting off the gun. They are no good to us."
Stepping outside he placed both weapons in one of the racks. "Accept 'em with my compliments. Quite a collection you have, Mo Yan. Lots of travelers passing through Lanchow lately and leaving their rifles, I suppose?" He took Rand's arm, drawing him away. "Oh, Mo Yan, did you ever hear this? We'll call it the Wisdom of the West. ‘Honesty is the best policy.' No? ”

“ Mo Yan knows English. This six-footer has a revolver up his sleeve—see where it sags? He may be Mo Yan, or he may not. Anyway, there's half a company of super Chinese infantry going through the manual of arms behind us, and if we tried to put up a fight we'd be crow meat in ten seconds. Do as he says."
Accordingly they surrendered their weapons to a Lascar in one of the chambers off the courtyard.
After Rand had been persuaded by the major-domo to look at some Khotanese manuscripts in the library of Mo Yan's house, Black Gordon went for a stroll. ”

“ Gordon nodded dryly. Rand had taken up a collection at Chengtu, and had made up the rest out of the safe at the Half Way House, judging that this was what the master of Lanchow sought from them, and that for this he was holding Betty.
The lean fingers of Mo Yan tapped upon the table top. "Probably one of the Mongol bands carried her off. I am doing my best to teach them the meaning of my law. A week ago I executed one of their leaders."
Again the hunter nodded. "We saw the man. But I've an idea the American missy was fetched to Lanchow. If your men will search, you can find her. ”

“ A sixth sense told him that men behind him were pushing forward. His right hand crept upward toward the region of his heart, then fell to his side. These men, he knew, expected him to make a hostile movement, perhaps to knock down the torturer with the sword. ”

“ Professor Rand sat down near the desk, but Gordon preferred to stand where the mandarin would not be behind his back.
"Whom did you expect, Mo Yan?" asked Rand mildly.
"Envoys from Chengtu. Men have come to pay their respects to me from the Mongol tribes, and from the Chinese villages of Kansu. ”