GATE OF RINGING SANDS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXV, Issue 20028, 18 August 1928, Page 14 (Supplement)

GATE OF RINGING SANDS.

BY OTWELL BINNS.

CHAPTER V —(Continued). Marco Polo had written that in medi neval days, and he remembered that, some later traveller had "connected the reference with the Sounding Sandhill near the caves of the Thousand Bnddhas in Tunyang. But that was in the Desert of Gobi —more than a thousand miles from any point of the triangle in which, as he was convinced, lay the secret of Ringing Sands—and ft was not a Moslem country Marco 'Polo's words cleared up ono mystery but hft the other untouched. They indicated tbo phenomena for which he was to look, but they did not point the locality where it was to be found, foi the Gobi Desert was-quite an impossible place. He had heard of none, but, he told- himself, there must be some other place where the same phenomena of sounding sand occurred; and that they must lie somewhere in the triangle which had its points on Hissar, Khotan and Tashkent. He sat for a long time ab sorbed in the problem, then he rose, and leaving the serai by devious- paths made his way to n house where the sight of him caused a uniformed .chuprassi to order him away with words of unspeak able rudeness. * He did not go, but instead, speaking with a voice of authority that made the native jump, bade him turtlv fetch his master. Presently a young man, dressed for dinner, came forth and stared at him with nonchalant but very observant eyes. " What do you want, fellow V he nsked at last. "To send a tar," replied Claverdon in Kashmiri. The young man frowned. "What the devil—" "To Colonel Cavenagh at Delhi." he whispered in English. "Ah!" "Be rude to me,-very rude," counselled Claverdon whisperingly. "The night may be full of eyes." The other obeyed him with a vigour and faithfulness that left nothing to the imagination, calling him dog and other less pretty names; and bidding him if he •wanted food to go - to the stable-boys who were of his own kidney, adding in the intervals of abuse information that was desirable. " Away to the right. There's a man on guard there; but I'll call him off for a while;" Then his abuse became so violent that the caller slunk off hurriedly and faded away in the darkness.

Ten minutes later, however, he reappeared, a crouching shadow, at the rendezvous indicated; and whistling softly, caught a whisper: "All clear!" A door was opened and he slipped through; the door"closed again, and then an electric torch was switched on, and the man, whose abuse had been so cordial, spoke. " Here are forms—a pencil. But I'd like to know who you are?'you know." " Olaverdon!" "Well I'm d—d! Louis, I'd never have known you in a month of Sundays, you're so confoundedly disreputable." Claverdon laughed without answering, and began tor write. When he had finished he handed the coded telegram to the other. Got it away, Charlesworth, at once. The answer is important." " You're going to wait —" " Not on your life, old man, but at eleven in <he morning I shall be bargaining for a sheepskin coat at the store tit Mordecai tho Jew, and if you happen along—" t "Oh! I shall happen." "Then I'll to mv lodging in the serai, to get what sleep the fleas permit." The torch was switched off, and the door being opened ho slid away in the shadows, and presently made the serai, as he flattered; himself, without' observation. There •he made the acquaintance of one \y-ho was -what he himself seemed •—a Bal'i coper's man. The Balti was having trouble with an ill-tempered horse, and handling it badly; and for the help he gave-he was permitted to sleep in the stall with him on a bundle of fodder. And before the night was spent he found reason -to .question the' correctness of the conviction that his goings had been unobserved. . S'or, awakened by a stumble near by, he caught a sound of whispering voices; and then of feet moving Stealthily.'' 110 acted swiftly, creeping silently;' behind two or threo yak-dans, Bnd there, lying almost flat, awaited developments. He had not to wait longCautions steps soundec]'in the stall, there was the smell of a hidden lantern, which tvas presently uncovered, revealing two men, one'of whom, after a quick glance found, threw .himself upon the snoring Balti—a "hand ;on his mouth, a knife at bis throat: .

The man thus • rudely awakened Squirmed and tried to struggle, but at i prick of the . knife became still as a rorpse, and stared 'at the men with terrified eyes. The second man began to go through the Balti's clothes with a learching hand, and then gave a whispered turse. , " I cannot find it. Take thy hand from his mouth and make the pig speak." The hand was removed, the point of Ihe knife pricked the Balti's sinewy throat in a ferocio is hint; . then there followed } question. " Whfere is the jade trinket, son of feat an V Theßalti stared at him with eyes in K'hich both amazement and fear were ihining. " In God's name, I know not what—" Claverdon did not hear tho rest. A Slan had come to him, and he forthwith proceeded to execute it. He was between Ihe mer and the entrance to the stall, >nd crawling on his stomach among the Klure, he reached tho open, loosed the loaded whip from his belt and holding it it the lash end, looked swiftly round the lerai. Prom within came the Balti's protesting whine. " By the prophet's beard—" Claverdon chuckled, balanced the whipi*ock in his hand, and' then made tho ilosed-in serai ring. "Thieves! Thieves! Help—"

Almost instantly there was a yelp from K'iihin the stall, from tho Balti as ho guessed, wrung from him by a sudden U'iok oi , the knife j then, as the serai twoke, there'" c;aine the sound of hurrying Met. A shadow "'leaped from tho entranco ind Claverdon struck well' and truly, so ihat the fugitive went sprawling in the nuck A second blow got the second man ts neatly as the first, and as the lodgers ?i tho serai camo hurrying, the Balti itaggered from tho stable with tho lantern n one hand and the other hand at his leek, whence the blood \v;is flowing from i superficial wound. Men shouted to liru, demanding explanation, ' while t'laverdon thoughtfully slid' away, and ji-om the deeper shadows of the serai listened to the vociferous explanations of fhe injured Balti.. The tumult grew about iiie two prostrate.men. arid seeking shelter tniong sotno 'stacked bales( Claverdon thuekled again

' The- Haiti will cook their goose to a ticety !" Then he grew thoughtful as he tsked himself: "How did those beggars mow? They must have watched like ml s. The quicker lam out of these stable tags the better and the serai is no safe jlnce. There may bo others—" The serai gates, as he knew, were locked, »ud. egress was not possible that way, md the only way was over the wall. That presented little difficulty to him; and in t very few minutes he was hurrying, ihrough the darkness of narrow streets, icck'ing the sanctuary the serai had lenifed. CHAPTER VI. Precisely 'at eleven the following morn Charleswortb Sahib entered the store >f Mordecav the Jew to look for the horsetoper. s .man who would be bargaining for i Sheepskin coat'- The store was an emporium of things; new and old, but rnosth i i' . deluding curios of .price, were not priceless, second''ll™ tnat:v. smelt", sourly, - rustspotted knives which had probably cut oens throats, *pjces to flavour exotic

A ROMANCE OF INTRIGUE AND MYSTERY.

(COPYRIGHT.)

dishes, and hanging from rusty nails, per haps half a dozen of the sheepskin coats meant to keep the wearer from the bitter cold of the passes. Charlesworth marked the coats and looked round for the prospective purchaser of one of them. He was not _ there, indeed save for himself and a Mohommechn gentleman in white robes with a gold-edged turban on his head, who was talking to old Mordecai, the store was empty. Charlesworth glanced at his watch, and then turned to look at the narrow street. As ho dia so, Mordecai left the Mohommedan gentleman and hurried to an inner room, whereat the Mahommedan strolled slowly down the store, pausing to examine, some ancient bronze images. One of them by some ill-luck slipped from his fingers and fell with a clatter among a pile of brass pots upon the floor. The noise did not bring old Mordecai from his office, but it caused the waiting English man to look round, and as he did so the white-robed one gave a sign. "Well I'm blest!" whispered Charlesworth to himself, and as the other stooped and retrieved the image to restore it to its resting-place moved toward him. The Mahommedan gentleman did not speak, but carelessly took up a carved ivory and ebony box inlaid with beaten silver, opening the lid to gaze thoughtfully into the interior for a moment. Then he set tho box down, glanced carelessly at the Englishman and moved away. Charlesworth in turn examined tho box, then setting it down again, grew interested in other things noticeably in an ancient tulwai with a jewelled handle which hung on the dusty wall. Mordecai came from his office again, looked at Charlesworth and then at the Moslem, who was now ranging about tho store, examining the more costly things of the medley that was the stock in trade. After that single glance the Jew turned to Charlesworth, who carelessly asked the price of the tulwar. Mordecai named an impossible sum at which the Englishman jeered. t " You old shark! I'll start chaffering at half tho figure and pay you quarter, maybe!" The owner of the store protested, and almost wept when tho other continued to jeer. ' But, sir, it is a tulwar of tho great days, and made for a prince's hand. There is not a weapon like it in all Kashmir, and if his Highness the Maharajah knew of it-—" He would ask what thief stole it from the palace?" laughed the Englishman.

Again the Jew protested volubly, but was not greatly broken-hearted when the other left without making tho purchase; then he turned anew to the white-robed one who was again examining the ebony and ivory box, and who as Mordecai drew near, asked the price. This time the owner of the store was more than reasonable, but the Moslem gentleman disputed the price in the immemorial way of the East, securing a reduction of two rupees; and finally left the store carrying his purchase under his arm. In the narrow street he paused and looked carefully round. Men of half a dozen races were going their ways, apparently all moving on their lawful occasions, and none of them showed anything but the most cursory interest in himself, and after a little time ho began to stroll on between the mean wooden houses, until he reached a better-class house near the bank of the river. This, after anothei glance round, ho entered, and made his way to an upper room, where after making himself secure from interruption he seated himself upon a divan, and opening his recent purchase, took out a folded paper which had not been there before Charlesworth had examined the box. Unfolding it, he began to read, decoding it as he read. It was an answer to the message he had sent the previous night; and he found it profoundly interesting:

" Answering yours. . . . Addition to Tunyang there are Moving Sands—Reg-i-Ruwan—forty miles north of Kabul . also Musical Sandhill of same name at Kalah-i-Kah, Afghan Seistan. Out of range, at Sinai, Arabia and Libyan Desert and other places. . . . * A hot scent, seemingly.—C." As he finished reading ho remained for some minutes silently committing to memory the names that seemed to be important, then striking a match he lit the paper, let it burn to ashes on a brass tray and carefully powdering the ashes in his palms flung them out of the window. That done, he gave himself to thought. The hot scent of which the telegram spoke seemed real enough. Reg-i-Ruwan, whether north of Kabul, or in Siestan, corresponded very well with Ringing Sands. Both places evidently had sands which had somo peculiar property, but which of them was Ringing Sands it was not easy to determine. It might be one or the other, or again it might be neither. The phenomenon of sounding sands was apparently not so rare as to exclude the possibility of some place unrecorded by travellers being the one that held the secret ot the J ado Gateway. Ho considered the matter for a lonjr time without arriving at any helpful conclusion. There was, as ho recognised, little immediate possibility of finding the particular locality of The Gate from the data in his hands. Further knowledge was needed before that could be achieved, and how that knowledge was to be obtained was not apparent. Nothing but a lucky chance, as it seemed, would save him from a doublo journey to the two places in Afghanistan mentioned in Cavenagh's telegram. He lit a cigarette and moved to a divan near the window which commanded the river. There was plenty of traffic on the waterway, but the season being lato, much of it was coming downstream, the passengers being Europeans returning from leave. Ho watched the boats with an absent look in his eyes while lie further considered the problem before him, then into his view flashed a boat going upstream —a handsome, fiat-bottomed boat, piled, as he could sec, with rich cushions, ■ind having an expensive awning of silk, the last word in luxury, so far as handpropelled craft were concerned. As he watched the turbancd boatmen plying their heart-shaped paddles, momentarily leaving his problem, lie found himself speculating idly who was the owner of the boat. Somo native princeling, probably, ho decided, or possibly somo prosperous carpet merchant.

His speculation ended abruptly as lie caught sight of the passenger under the awning—a white woman with golden hair. Ho stared in amazement. The distance between the window and the boat was considerable and ho could not see the face closely, but he had a conviction of the woman's identity, and was stirred to prompt activity by it. Hurriedly leaving the house, lie hired a boat, with instructions to paddle upstream and to overtake tho gay craft ahead, promising ample reward for success. By the time he was afloat the boat ho followed was well ahead, but soori the energy of his pnddlers began to overtake it: and as they drew nearer, lie gave instructions to the man to pass it as closely as safety permitted. That, however, was not to be, for as they drove toward it, the craft they were pursuing changed its course, making for a house-boat anchored inshore. To follow it too closely would have been to attract attention: but as it came to a standstill by the steps of the house-boat. Claverdon's craft, under his direction, moved sufficiently near to see the passenger disembark. Ho saw tho woman, dressed in biscuit-coloured silk, mount the steps, make some remark to the boatmen, then stand for a moment watching the •traffic on the river. There was nothing to obstruct his view, and he was near enough to set all doubts at rest. The woman was unquestionably Narani. With his own boat moving slowly on, he watched her until she turned and di? appeared; and then found himself con fronted by a new problem Should he call and finish the conversation which had suffered so dramatic an interruption four nights ago ? He was strongly tempted to follow that course. There were many questions that he would have liked to

ask, and he was on the point of giviDg his men word to drop down to the houseboat when he remembered something that caused him to change his mind. Narani might or might not know of his presence in Srinagar, but there was no wisdom in revealing himself to her in his present incarnation as a wealthy Moslem. There might be those who liad already penetrated his disguise, as hftd the intruders in the serai on the previous night his first disguise, but he thought it unlikely; and to go to Narani might bo to lose whatever security his hidden identity afforded. In the end he decided against precipitate action, being helped to that decision by a glance backward, which showed liim the gay craft he had followed moving downstream —without its passenger. Evidently the woman meant to stay on the house-boat for some little time; and if, on further reflection,s. he decided to seek an interview, lie would know where to find her.

He returned slowly downstream, directed the boatmen along one of the canals, and having landed, began to make his way in the direction of Mordecai's store. When he arrived there, the Jew, who was busy chaffering with an Englishman and a couple of ladies, gave an almost imperceptible- nod; and without invitation Claverdon walked straight into the private office at the end, and through a door at the farther side which opened on to a mixed store and lumber room, where the owner stocked things that might some day command a price, however small. In the middle of it, seated in the attitude of a meditating Buddha, and sucking an unclean hookah, was Nima-Tashi. "Oho!" laughed the Tibetan. "We meet again, my friend. And there are things to speak of " Claverdon's eyes grew alert at the words. " Then out. with them, Nima. There may bo need for haste." " Well, concerning the journey in the fire-carriage, where 1 rode packed with men cursed with wakefulness. At a place where, the train stayed to fill its belly with water came one who stared into the carriage long, his eyes fixed on mo until I pinched his nose between finger and thumb that he might the better remember, and when ho howled and departed, I followed him with my eyes and saw him enter the carriage in which thou didst sleep. Then was I minded to to after him; but had in remembrance the order given, and trusted thou wouldst bo on the watch against surprise from battle of his kind. Thero was trouble—nossiblv ? "

" A little," answered Claverdon with a laugh. " That much I guessed. I saw tho man ■"Tftin Inter at that place where we left the train. Ho followed me as I walked through the town, but when we came to the river, I turned swiftly, and caucrht the man, and being observed by none but children, who found pleasure in the sight, I tossed him in, and ran, and thereafter have not seen him. nor any who might e acting with him." 'Good! There is more to tell?" " Nothing, my friend." " Then there' are things that' I must ask. You have been in Seistan, Nima?" • " Aye ! " . " Did yon over go to Kalah-i-Kah ?. " " Never; but I have heard of " He checked himself sharply. A look of comprehension came on his broad face, an eager light in his eyes. "By the jewel in the lotus! " he broke out, and then cried: "Ringing Sands! There are sands at Kalah-i-Kah that make a humming noise when a thing is thrown into them or a man walks up them ! " "Yes! And there are others at Koh-i-Dahman by Kabul " " And Thave hes?d of yet another sand slope that sings in a valley of the Pamirs —though I took it for a lying tale." " All! " Claverdon leaned forward, excitement shining in his eyes. " Tell mo, Nima —all you know! The whereabouts of this place, for there, I will wager my life, is the Gate we seek." The light in the Tibetan's eyes faded a little. " Alas! there is little to tell—just the tale of a camel-driver of Bokhara drunk with the white wine of Nishapur, who swore many oaths that once in a valley between the great plains he had lost himself, and in a place between great rocks with tho moonlight streaming whitely upon it, he had come unexpectedly upon a slope of sand. It had seemed the only way down; but' when lie set foot upon it the valley was filled with singing—voices of ghostly houi'is trom paradise, though he saw none; and was all alone in the valley. He had fled down the slope like a frightened horse, the singing pursuing him as ho went; and at the bottom had passed a tomb, which proclaimed tho place haunted. He had raced on till h|e fell almost dead of oxhaustion; and with the morning had come to life again, at the far end of the valley, and as ho stood there looking back, vvonderingly had heard again that r tig; but even with the sun lfghtinp the hills had not dared to return to the ilace, which ho had reached travelling eastward over the Wakhan. A drunkard's dream, belike, born of wine or opium aud remembered in sober hours!" " But if it woro not! " whispered Claverdon, more to himself than to Nima. "If it were reality—a thing seen; and that which he heard not only tho singing of a muddled brain "

" liien by tho gods it might bo the place we seek ! " " Beyond question. Siestan is too far out, aiud the Reg-i-Ruwan by Kabul—too near that city to serve the purpose of those whose secret we follow. Tomorrow we start for the Wakhan Pamir " Aye, but how do we go ? " " As pedlars of Bokhara or Samarkand. With ponies ladened with stores which 'orrleeai can supply we may escape suspicion " " And be shot by bandits in tho hills, abroad for loot, or by—those others," said Nirna with a laugh. Claverdon nodded. "A possibility! But wc shall havo rifles to do a little shooting ourselves, if need be. I'll go back to Mordecai. He can buy the ponies and stores and assemble them on tho Gilgit road on tho farther side of Bandipur." "As you choose, my friend ... I remain in this holo ? '' " Yes." Claverdon laughed. " You are several sizes too large to escape notice if any should be looking for you, Nirna.'' The Tibetan laughed back. " Thus it is to be born a man and not a flea. But let mo also talk to the Jew of the things we need—for the wants of men in the hills are known to me." " To none better," agreed Claverdon, and wont his way to talk to Mordecai. But when night fell, and the moonlight was rippling on tho Jehlam River, ho borrowed the Jew's boat, and called Niina from his hiding-place to take the air. Tho Tibetan went with alacrity and watched him closely when he gave his orders; then chuckled aloud to himself. " So we go to breatho the moonlight, hoy?" he asked in his native speech. "And to call on a lady of our acquaintance," replied Claverdon in tho saino tongue. At that Nima-Tashi almost jumped. "The woman is hero?" " Sho was this morning. We go to make sure she is to-night." He said no more, but stepped into tho boat, and as tho Tibetan followed, tho boat started, running along tho canal between the house-boats until they reached tho Dal Gate and slipped into the moonlit river. Then they turned up-stream and presently reached the vicinity of the houseboat which Narani had boarded in the morning. There were lights burning, and a couple of flat-bottomed river-boats wore moored to the rail. Apparently Narani was still there, and the two boats implied visitors. Claverdon considered a moment, then took a sudden resolution. Ho himSclf would make a call—as an uninvited guest. Giving tho boatmen an order to row up to tho house-boat, he whispered instructions to the Tibetan, "Keep an open ear,_ Nirna! If you hear me cry come swiftly." "Have no fear!" chuckled the other. " I have aforetime saved a man from a woman. But this one's eyes have power, and—" The boats, mismanaged, bumped heavily against tho steps of the houseboat. giving notice of their call; and before Claverdon had • stepped on to the dock a chuprassi came running, and at the sight of Claverdon in native dress salaamed profoundly. " Take me to your mistress," he said in Urdu and by the light ofHlie swinging lamp saw a doubtful look come oil the man's face. (To be continued daily.)