The Snake, The Crocodile, And The Dog Part 40

"Certainly," I said calmly. "What method had you in mind? Dry squeezes or tracings?"

"Both," said Emerson, his lips curving in an expression that hardly deserved to be called a smile. "I want every scratch on those walls recorded. One technique may show details the other missed. After you have compared the two and made a master drawing, you will take it back into the tomb and check it against the wall itself. You may have Rene to a.s.sist you. Begin in room E and make sure you cover every inch of every wall."

Room E was the burial chamber-the deepest, most remote, hottest part of the tomb.

"Certainly," I said again. Emerson went off, smirking. While he was haranguing the men on how he wanted them to proceed, I took Abdullah aside.

"I don't know what he is up to, Abdullah, but he has just ordered me into the deepest and most distant part of the tomb, where I can't keep an eye on him. He has not said what he means to do, but I fear the worst. I rely on you, my friend. Watch him! Don't let him wander off alone."

"Have no fear, Sitt. Since the last time he eluded us I have made sure someone watches over him even when he sleeps, or seems to sleep He will not escape us again."

"Excellent. I trust you as I would myself."

I was turning away when the old man said hesitatingly, "Sitt Hakim . . ."

"Yes, Abdullah?"

"I would not have you think your safety is a lesser matter to us."

"You need not tell me that, old friend," I said warmly. "You and I understand one another's hearts, I think. We both know that the Father of Curses is in greater need of protection than I, he is the bravest of men, but he does take foolish chances." Adjusting my belt, I added, "I can take care of myself."

Abdullah's bearded lips quivered. "Yes, Sitt. But I hope I do not offend if I say that as you trust in me, I trust in the rich American who is also your friend. He will not let harm come to you if he can prevent it."

"Mr Vandergelt is a true friend," I said. "We are fortunate to have such loyal friends- and you chief among them, Abdullah."

The courtesies and the dictates of affection having been satisfied, Abdullah set off in pursuit of Emerson and I found Rene and instructed him to gather our equipment.

Cyrus of course offered to a.s.sist me, but I could see he was not interested in such painstaking, plodding work- nor had he the training for it. When I a.s.sured him I would get on very well without him he did not insist. He already had his eye on a pile of debris across the wadi, near the place where other explorers, including Emerson, had found evidence of a possible tomb opening, and I could see he was itching to start digging.

Rene and I carried our rolls of paper and pencils down the long shafts and stairs, over the half-filled shaft (which had been bridged by planks) and down a short ramp into the burial chamber.

It was about thirty feet on either side (10.36 by 10.40 meters, to be precise) with two square pillars and a raised plinth that had once supported the sarcophagus. The floor was covered with hardened mud set solid as plaster. The surfaces of walls and pillars had been decorated with painted reliefs modeled on a layer of plaster which had been applied to the rock surface. Here, where the heretic's own body had rested, the full fury of his enemies had been expended. Most of the plaster was gone. However, some of the figures had been roughly delineated on the underlying rock before the plaster was applied, and these rude outlines still survived.

"We will start with the back wall," I said to Rene. "I at the right-hand corner, you at the left. Watch me first, I am sure you are familiar with the technique, but I have my own methods."

The process of dry squeezing consists of pressing a thin sheet of paper over the carvings with the fingertips. Wet squeezes would of course give a more precise copy, but they often damaged the crumbling reliefs and removed the last traces of any remaining paint. The technique of rubbing should be self-explanatory, soft pencils and a steady, even pressure were necessary. It was hard on the arm and hand muscles to maintain this, especially when working on a perpendicular surface.

I will not elaborate on the working conditions. Imagine the hottest, dustiest, deadest, driest climate your mind can conceive, and double it, that will give some idea of what Rene and I endured that afternoon. I was determined to stick to it till I dropped and Rene was determined not to be outdone by a mere woman (though of course he knew better than to voice this sentiment aloud). For his sake rather than my own I decreed occasional breaks for rest, air, and refreshment. Copious consumption of water was essential to ward off dehydration. Each time we emerged my eyes sought Emerson. Each time he was in a different place- remeasuring a room Charlie had already measured, and telling him he had done it wrong, criticizing Abdullah for overlooking a sc.r.a.p of pottery in a crack in the floor, or hectoring the small work force he had a.s.signed to Cyrus. He left me and Rene strictly alone most of the afternoon, when he finally came thumping down the pa.s.sage, it was to tell us to stop for the day.

A faint moan came from Rene. I said, "As soon as I finish this sheet of paper."

Emerson picked up one of the rubbings I had completed and held it near the lamp. "Hmph," he said, and thumped off.

The valley was sunk in blue shadows when we emerged. Rene collapsed on the ledge, gasping. I handed him my canteen, the water was hot enough to have been used for tea, but it gave him strength enough to go on. I had to help him descend the slope, however.

"What luck?" I inquired of Cyrus, who was waiting below.

"Not much. Emerson insists we piqk through every confounded square inch of sand. At this rate it will take two weeks to reach bedrock. So far we have found a diorite maul, the kind the ancients used to break rock, and four pieces of pottery." Cyrus wiped the perspiration from his brow with his sleeve and then blinked at me. "But my poor dear girl- you look as if you have spent the day in a steam bath. You must be exhausted."

"Not at all. A nice hot cup of tea and a nice warm cup of water with which to bathe my face, and I will be fully restored."

"We can do better than that," Cyrus said, taking my arm. "Come and see what my fellows have done."

What they had accomplished was little short of a miracle. The area was quite unsuitable for a camp. The central s.p.a.ce was so narrow the tents and shelters had to be arranged in a long line instead of cl.u.s.tering together. To clear the ground entirely of rock would have taken weeks, but the men had rolled away many of the larger boulders and prepared relatively flat surfaces on which tents could be erected. Rugs and matting softened the pebbly ground, and folding cots offered promise of comfortable rest. Even the wood and dried camel dung for a fire had to be brought with us, for there was not so much as a twig to be gathered. Several fires burned bright in the dusk, and lanterns hung near the tents. Water jars, bowls and towels had been arranged outside each of them.

"No wonder you wanted so many donkeys," I said to Cyrus as, with glances admiring on my part and modestly proud on his, we surveyed the scene. "You sent them back after they were unloaded?"

"Figured I might as well. In rough terrain like this a man can scramble around as fast as a donkey can move." He hesitated for a moment, and then said, "I hope Emerson isn't going to throw a fit when he finds out I ordered some of my own men to stay. They don't know much about excavating, but they have sharp eyes and suspicious natures."

"Let him throw a fit if he likes. I approve, and I believe I can still bully- persuade, I mean- Emerson to accept the inevitable. How did you manage to convince your crewmen to take on the duties of guards?"

"Money is a great persuader, my dear. We'll speak no more of that, have a look at your quarters and see if I have forgotten anything you need or want."

The only fault I could find was that there was an excess of unnecessary luxuries, including soft cushions and a pretty china tea set. "It won't do, Cyrus," I said, smiling. "Emerson will wax sarcastic when he sees those ruffled pillows."

"Let him," was the sulky reply.

"More to the point," I continued, "there is not room for a second cot. Bertha will have to share my tent, Cyrus. No"- for he was on the verge of objecting- "there is no alternative, I fear. Far be it from me to cast aspersions on the character of any young gentleman, but I cannot allow the slightest breath of scandal to tarnish an expedition of which I am a part. Gossip of that sort, true or false, would hinder the advancement of females in the profession, and that advancement, as you know, is a matter of great concern to me. Furthermore- "

"I take your point," said Cyrus with a sigh "If that's what you want, Amelia, that's how it's going to be."

Cyrus's cook was among those who had consented to stay with us. I could only a.s.sume Cyrus had bribed him extravagantly, for good chefs can easily find employment and do not have to endure conditions like the ones under which he labored.

I was pouring tea by the fire when Charlie staggered into camp. The poor young American was a sight to behold. His shirt was as wet as if he had stood under a waterfall, and his hair was dripping.

"So how did it go?" I inquired cheerfully. "You have been working on the plan of the tomb, I believe?"

"Part of the time," said Charlie, in a voice hoa.r.s.e with fatigue and dust. "I believe I have by now practiced every possible aspect of the archaeologist's trade. If the professor- "

He was interrupted by the professor himself, who had gone off to inspect the camp. He now came storming up to us, brandishing some object like a club. It was so dark that I did not identify the object until he got close to the fire.

"What the devil do you mean by this, Vandergelt?" he demanded, thrusting the rifle- for so it proved to be- into Cyrus's face.

"For heaven's sake, Emerson, point it the other way," I exclaimed in some alarm.

"It is not loaded," said Emerson, pitching the weapon away. "But the ammunition is there, along with a half dozen other rifles. What the devil- "

"If you will give me a chance, I will answer you," said Cyrus coolly. "n.o.body is forcing you to pack a six-shooter, but I'll be consarned if I am going to neglect such an obvious means of self-defense. These are Mauser Gewehrs, with 7.92-millimeter cartridges and a five-round magazine. A sharp shot, which I am, can blow a man's head off at two hundred yards. And if I see a head I don't recognize, that's what I intend to do, with your permission or without it."

Emerson's teeth gleamed in the firelight. "I'm sure your speech has made a great impression on the ladies, Vandergelt. It doesn't impress me, but then that was not your purpose, was it? I hope your eyesight is good. It would be a pity if you happened to shoot Abdullah or me by mistake."

Hearing Cyrus's teeth grinding, I hastened to intervene. "No more squabbling, if you please. Supper will be ready soon, go and wash."

"Yes, Mama," said Emerson. He has rather large, very white teeth, the reflection of the firelight off their surfaces presented a horrifying picture.

Bertha glided off to a.s.sist the chef. When the group rea.s.sembled, tempers had improved somewhat- I refer primarily to the temper of Emerson- and the consumption of an excellent meal put everyone into a more relaxed frame of mind. In relative affability we compared notes on the activities of the day and discussed plans for the morrow. The only discordant note was introduced by- whom else?- Emerson, who inquired why I was lounging around the fire instead of collating the copies I had made that day.

With perfect calm I replied, "It is impossible to do it properly under these conditions. The light is inadequate, there is not a flat surface large enough to spread the papers out- "