Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1912-11-20

BILE through the native town and the
bazaars. He might pick up some little
curio to give to Fortune. So he
beckoned to an idle driver, climbed in
to the carriage, and was driven off as
if empires hung upon minutes.
Ryanne never wearied of the ba-
zaars Of Cairo. They were to him no
less enchanting than the circus-pa-
rades 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.
Perhaps the magic nearness of the
desert had something to do with it.,
the rainless skies, the ever-recurring
suggestions of antiquity. His lively
| observation, his sense of the pictur-
esque and the humorous, always close
to the surface, gave him that singular
impetus which makes man prowler.
This gift had made possible his sue
: cess in old Bagdad. Some years be-
fore he had prowled through the mar
row city streets, had noted the wind
ings, the blind-alleys. and had never
forgotten. Faces and localities were
written indelibly upon his memory
One rode to the bazaars, but walk
ed 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 inf1dels throat
But, patience. Did not the Koran
teach patience among the higher laws?
Patience. He could not, madly as he
had 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 into the desert Out into the des-
ert, where no man might be his mas
ter. 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
Cairene blue, in the heavens, in the
waters, in the dyes
Make way, o my mother!" bawled
a donkey-boy to the old crone ped
ding matches.
'Backsheesh! Backsheesh!" in the
eight tones of the human voice From
the beggar, his brother, his uncle,
his grandfather, his children and his
children's children. "Blacksheesh,
backsheesh!"
ITO the right" was shrilled into
Ryanne's ear; anu he lodged. A
troop Of donkeys passed, laden with
tourists, unhappy, fretful, self-con-
sctous. A water-carrfer brushed
against him, and he whitfield the fresh
dampness of the bullying goat-skin. A
woman, the long, black head-veil
streaming out behind in the clutch of
the monkey-like hand Of a toddling
child, carried terra-cotta water-jar
upon her head. The grace with which
she moved, the abruptness Of the col
exchanges, 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 shufled
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 waterpipes, the pleasant
fumes Of coffee, the hardy loafers
lolling before the khans or caravan.
saries; yelled face at a lattice-win.
dow; the violet shadows in doorway;
the sunshine upon the soaring
mosques; 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.
Ryanne found himself inspecting
"the largest emerald in the world,
worth twelve thousand pounds" which
looked more like a fine hexagonal of
onyx than gem. 1t was one of the
curiosities of the bazaars, however,
and tourists were generally round it
in force. To his experienced eye it
was no more than fine specimen Of
emerald quartz, worth what any fool
of 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.
CHAPTER TX