Border, Breed Nor Birth Part 13
"Well, you've read about him. He came into office at a time when the country was going to economic pot by the minute. Some of the measures he and his so-called brain trust took were immediately hailed by his enemies as socialistic. In answer, Roosevelt told them that in times of social stress the true conservative is a liberal, since to preserve, you have to reform. If Roosevelt hadn't done the things he did, back in the 1930s, you probably would have seen some _real_ changes in the American socio-economic system. Roosevelt didn't undermine the social system of the time, he preserved it."
"Then, according to you, Roosevelt was a conservative," she said mockingly.
Crawford laughed. "I'll go even further," he said. "When social changes are pending and for whatever reason are not brought about, then reaction is the inevitable alternative. At such a time then--when sweeping socio-economic change is called for--any reform measures proposed are concealed measures of reaction, since they tend to maintain the _status quo_."
"Holy Mackerel," Cliff protested. "Accept that and Roosevelt was not only not a liberal, but a reactionary. Stop tearing down my childhood heroes."
Isobel said, "Let's get back to this Amenokal guy. You think he's smart enough to see his only chance is in going along with ..."
Homer Crawford pointed ahead and a little to the right. "We'll soon find out. This is a favorite encampment of his. With luck, he'll be there. If we can win him over, we've come a long way."
"And if we can't?" Isobel said, her eyebrows raised again.
"Then it's unfortunate that there are only three of us," Homer said simply, without looking at her.
There were possibly no more than a hundred Tuareg in all in the nomad encampment of goat leather tents when the solar powered hovercraft drew up.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
When the air cushion vehicle stopped before the largest tent, Crawford said beneath his breath, "The Amenokal is here, all right. Cliff, watch your teguelmoust. If any of these people see more than your eyes, your standing has dropped to a contemptible zero."
The husky Californian secured the lightweight cotton, combination veil and turban well up over his face. Earlier, Crawford had shown him how to wind the ten-foot long, indigo-blue cloth around the head and features.
Isobel, of course, was unveiled, Tuareg fashion, and wore baggy trousers of black cotton held in place with a braided leather cord by way of drawstring and a gandoura upper-garment consisting of a huge rectangle of cloth some seven to eight feet square and folded over on itself with the free corners sewed together so as to leave bottom and most of both sides open. A V-shaped opening for her head and neck was cut out of a fold at the top, and a large patch had been sewed inside to make a pocket beneath her left breast. She wasn't exactly a Parisian fashion plate.
Even as they stepped down from the hovercraft, immediately after it had drifted to rest on the ground, an elderly man came from the tent entrance.
He looked at them for a moment, then rested his eyes exclusively on Homer Crawford.
"_La Bas_, El Ha.s.san," he said through the cloth that covered his mouth.
Homer Crawford was taken aback, but covered the fact. "There is no evil," he repeated the traditional greeting. "But why do you name me El Ha.s.san?"
A dozen veiled desert men, all with the Tuareg sword, several with modern rifles, had formed behind the Tuareg chief.
Melchizedek made a movement of hand to mouth, in a universal gesture of amus.e.m.e.nt. "Ah, El Ha.s.san," he said, "you forget you left me the magical instrument of the Roumi."
Crawford was mystified, but he stood in silence. What the Tuareg paramount chief said now made considerable difference. As he recalled his former encounter with the Ahaggar leader, the other had been neither friendly nor antagonistic to the Reunited Nations team Crawford had headed in their role as itinerant desert smiths.
The Amenokal said, "Enter then my tent, El Ha.s.san, and meet my chieftains. We would confer with you."
The first obstacle was cleared. Subduing a sigh of relief, Homer Crawford turned to Cliff. "This, O Amenokal of all the Ahaggar, is Clif ben Jackson, my Vizier of Finance."
The Amenokal bowed his head slightly, said, "_La Bas_."
Cliff could go that far in the Tuareg tongue. He said, "_La Bas_."
The Amenokal said, looking at Isobel, "I hear that in the lands of the Roumi women are permitted in the higher councils."
Homer said steadily, "This I have also been amazed to hear. However, it is fitting that my followers remain here while El Ha.s.san discusses matters of the highest importance with the Amenokal and his chieftains. This is the Sitt Izubahil, high in the councils of her people due to the great knowledge she has gained by attending the new schools which dispense rare wisdom, as all men know."
The Amenokal courteously said, "_La Bas_," but Isobel held her peace in decency amongst men of chieftain rank.
When Homer and the Tuaregs had disappeared into the tent, she said to Cliff, "Stick by the car, I'm going to circulate among the women.
Women are women everywhere. I'll pick up the gossip, possibly get something Homer will miss in there."
A group of Tuareg women and children, the latter stark naked, had gathered to gape at the strangers. Isobel moved toward them, began immediately breaking the ice.
Under his breath, Cliff muttered, "What a gal. Give her a few hours and she'll form a Lady's Aid branch, or a bridge club, and where else is El Ha.s.san going to pick up so much inside information?"
The tent, which was of the highly considered mouflon skins, was mounted on a wooden frame which consisted of two uprights with a horizontal member laid across their tops. The tent covering was stretched over this framework with its back and sides pegged down and the front, which faced south, was left open. It was ten feet deep, fifteen feet wide and five feet high in the middle.
The men entered and filed to the right of the structure where sheepskins and rugs provided seating. The women and children, who abided ordinarily to the left side, had vanished for this gathering of the great.
They sat for a time and sipped at green tea, syrup sweet with mint and sugar, the tiny cups held under the teguelmoust so as not to obscenely reveal the mouth of the drinker.
Finally, Homer Crawford said, "You spoke of the magical instrument of the Roumi which I gave you as gift, O Amenokal, and named me El Ha.s.san."
Several of the Tuareg chuckled beneath their veils but Crawford could read neither warmth nor antagonism in their amus.e.m.e.nt.
The elderly Melchizedek nodded. "At first we were bewildered, O El Ha.s.san, but then my sister's son, Guemama, fated perhaps one day to become chief of the Kel Rela and Amenokal of all the Ahaggar, recalled the tales told by the storytellers at the fire in the long evenings."
Crawford looked at him politely.
Melchizedek's laugh was gentle. "But each man has heard, in his time, O El Ha.s.san, of the ancient Calif Haroun El Raschid of Baghdad."
Crawford's mind went into high gear, as the story began to come back to him. From second into high gear, and he could have blessed these bedouin for handing him a piece of publicity gobblydygook worthy of Fifth Avenue's top agency.
He held up a hand as though in amus.e.m.e.nt at being discovered.
"Wallahi, O Amenokal, you have discovered my secret. For many months I have crossed the deserts disguised as a common Enaden smith to seek out all the people and to learn their wishes and their needs."
"Even as Haroun el Raschid in the far past," one of the subchiefs muttered in satisfaction, "used to disguise himself as a lowborn dragoman and wander the streets of Baghdad."
"But how did you recognize me?" Homer said.
The Amenokal said in reproof, "But verily, your name is on all lips.
The Roumi have branded you common criminal. You are to be seized on sight and great reward will be given he who delivers you to the authorities." He spoke without inflection, and Crawford could read neither support nor animosity--nor greed for the reward offered by El Ha.s.san's enemies. He gathered the impression that the Tuareg chief was playing his cards close to his chest.
"And what else do they say?"
The elderly Melchizedek went on slowly, "They say that El Ha.s.san is in truth a renegade citizen of a far away Roumi land and that he attempts to build a great confederation in North Africa for his own gain."
One of the others chuckled and said, "The Roumi on the magical instrument are indeed great liars as all can see."
Homer looked at him questioningly.