Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1912-01-16

less enchanting than the circus
parades of his youth. In certain ways.
they were not to be compared with
those in Constantinople and Smyrna;
but, on the other hand, there was more
! light, more charm, more color. Per-
haps the magic nearness of the desert
. had something to do with 1t. the rain
| less skies, the overcoming sugges.
| lions of antiquity. His lively observa.
| ton, his sense of the picturesque and
the humorous, always close to the sur
, face, gave him that singular impetus
which makes man a prowler. This gift
had made possible his success In old
Bagdad. Some years before he had
prowled through the narrow city,
streets, had noted the windings, the
blind alleys, and had never forgotten.
Faces and localities were written in
delibly upon his memory.
One rode to the bazaars, but walked
through them or mounted donkeys.
Ryanne preferred his own legs. So did
Mahomed. Once, so close did he come
that he could have put his two brown
hands round the infidels throat. But.
! patience, did not the Koran teach pa
thence among the higher laws? Pa
thence. He could not, madly as he mad
dreamed, throttle the white liar here
In the bazaars. That would not bring
the Holy Yhiordes to his hands. He
must wait. He must plan to lure the
man out at night then to hurry him
to the desert Out into the desert,
where no man might be his master.
Oh, the Holy Yhiordes should be his
again; 1t was written.
! The cries, the shouts, the tower of
Babel reclaimed; the intermingling OF
the races Of the world; the English
man. the American, the German, the
Italian, the Frenchman, the Greek, the
Levantine, the purple-black Ethiopian,
the bronze Nubian; the yelled women.
the naked children; all the color tones
known to art, but predominating, that
marvellous faded tint of blue. the
Caircne blue, In the heavens, In the
waters, in the dyes.
Make way, 0 my mother!" bawled
donkey-boy to the old crone peddling
matches.
"Backsheesh. Backsheesh!" in the
eight tones of the human voice. From
the beggar, his brother, his uncle, hta
| grandfather. his children and his chill.
dren's children. "Backsheesh back.
| sheesh!"
ITO the right" was shrilled into
Ryanne's ear; and he lodged. A troop
OF donkeys passed, laden with tourists.
unhappy fretful, selfconscious. A
water carrier brushed against him,
and he whitfield the fresh dampness Of
the bullying goat-skin. A woman, the
long, black head-veil streaming out be-
hind in the clutch of the monkey. like
hand of toddling child, carried a
terra-cotta water jar upon her head.
The grace with which she moved, the
Iabruptness of the color changes,
caught Ryanne's rowing eye and filled
it with pleasure
Dust rose and subsidized, eddied and
settled; beggars blind and one-eyed
squatted in it, children tossed it in
play, and beasts Of burden shuffled
| through it. ~ ~
The roar in front Of the shops, the
pressing and crowding of customers,
the high cries OF the merchants; the
| gurgle of the water pipes, the pleasant
fumes Of coffee, the hardy loafers lol1'
| ing before the khans of caravansaries;
a yelled face at lattice-window; the
violet shadows in doorway; the
ouhoAIAO uPVu LAo IlO6QuGS, u
true believer rocking and mumbling
over his tattered Koran; gold and
silver and jewels; amber and copper
and brass; embroideries and rugs and
carpets; and the pest OF fleas, the
plague of flies, the insidious smells.
Rarely one saw the true son Of the
desert, the Bedouin. He disdained
streets and walls, and only necessity
brought him here among the polyglot
and the polygon.
Ryanne found himself inspecting
"the largest emerald in the world,
| worth twelve thousand pounds" which
looked more like q fine hexagonal OF
onyx than a gem. 1t was one OF the
curiosities of the bazaars, however.
end tourists were generally round Il
in force. To his experienced eye It was
no more than a fine specimen OF
emerald quartz, worth what any fool
Vt collector was willing to pay for it.
From this bazaar he passed on into
the next, and there he saw Fortune.
| And as Mahomed, always close at
hand, saw the hard lines in Ryanne's
face soften. the cynical smile become
tender, he believed he saw his way to
strike.
(To Be Continued.)
| ~.