Hours passed. We all became covered from head to foot with the mud of the Haitoumans. At the first attempt to pull, one of the ropes broke. We halted everything to strengthen that line.
Again I gave the command to go. Whips cracked, oxen heaved, and ropes tautened. Kanadas and Siladites screamed, "Malmal!"
With sucking and bubbling sounds, Aias drew one foot after another out of the mud and advanced it. The combined pull of the oxen staggered him, as they were pulling at an angle to the direction he faced. Then over he went on his side, with a snapping of ropes, a tremendous splash, and a scream as of twenty trumpets fouled with spittle.
"Whoa!" I shouted.
Aias rolled back on his belly, got to his feet, and started for shore, with every sign of wrath. The oxen fled up the road, while some of the Garians scrambled straight up the side of the gorge in their terror.
Siladites splashed after Aias, caught the end of his trunk, and tugged on it, shouting "Thero!" Aias let himself be halted short of the brink, uttering smothered gurgles and squeals as if cursing under his breath. The Garians straggled back. We unhitched and untangled the ropes. The townsfolk capered, grinned, and kissed each other as if the entire plan had been theirs.
We no sooner gained the top of the gorge, however, than the Garians began shouting. Vardanas explained: "They want their pay."
"Two and a half oboloi for each bullock," I said. "Find who the owners are."
That, however, was easier said than done. Every man screamed that he had furnished two, three, or more oxen, which was absurd. Not knowing the folk or the tongue, I could not settle matters. I sought out the deaf elder.
"Tell him," I said to Vardanas, "that I shall hand him money equal to two and a half oboloi per ox; or five drachmai, two and a half oboloi altogether. In the want of authorities, he shall pay each owner his share. If these people wish to fight over this money, that's up to them."
Although the old man looked frightened, I brooked no denial. I handed him a cloth holding the money and thrust him into the midst of his folk. Then I went back to camp, ignoring the uproar that broke out behind me.
"Get to sleep early, lads," I said. "We're off for Phrada the morn."
Book Four
ARIANA
On the fifth day from Garis, we reached a small river, the Chasis. Here stood a ruined caravan shelter and a postal station.
"There was a village," the postmaster explained, pointing to broken ground where outlines of ruined house walls could still be seen. "Raiders destroyed it. Tell King Alexander that if he will build a fort and fix up the sarai, we could lure settlers hither. I for one should like some neighbors friendlier than the jackals."
We crossed the river and pitched our camp. On the far side, Vardanas pointed to a marker of stone.
"The bourne of Ariana!" he cried. "I, Vardanas son of Thraitaunas, welcome you to Ariana! Know you Vindapharnas?" He burst into rolling Persian verse. As nearly as I can translate it, it went:
"Methought this was Zarangiana," said Thyestes. "It is," said Vardanas. "Zarangiana is but one province of Ariana. Ariana is the entire land wherein Arian speech is spoken."
"Mean you Persian?" said Thyestes.
"Persian and Median are the two main tongues that make up Arian. There are also Parthian and Hyrkanian and Baktrian and Sogdian and Karmanian and Sakan, as well as all the petty dialects of these. But welcome to my glorious homeland." Vardanas drew a deep breath, as if the air had become sweeter. For all I could see, though, the west side of the Chasis showed nought but the same vast, dusty desert as the side we had quitted.
"Hero-land or no, I'm for a bath," said Thyestes. "And tell your reeky Dahas to bathe, too, afore we fling them in willy-nilly. 'Tis becoming so we can sense them upwind at ten furlongs."
"Nor would one do you any harm either, laddie," I added.
The Persian looked unhappy. "Fain would I not offend my dear comrades by my stench, Leon. But you know our laws anent rivers."
"This is no river. The postmaster tells me it vanishes into the sand a few leagues from here, and there are no towns below us."
"But where can we bathe with decent modesty?"
"Below yonder patch of reeds. None shall go thither to shame you."
I posted a watch and plunged in. Out near the middle was a chain of pools extensive enough to swim a few strokes in. The Hellenes played boisterously, splashing and ducking one another. We scoured off the dirt with sand, and, at a signal from Siladites, the elephant filled his trunk with water and squirted us.
I was floating on my back when there came a great splashing and shouts of alarm from behind the reeds. I waded downstream to where Vardanas and the Dahas bathed.
The four Sakas danced on the edge of a pool, shouting and pointing. In the pool, Vardanas thrashed as though some sea monster had seized him.
I plunged in and pulled Vardanas out. When he could speak, he said: "I owe you my life, Leon. I was washing in the shallows when a frog leaped out of the reeds and alighted in front of me. In my terror, I fell into the pool. As I cannot swim, I was in peril of drowning when you saved me."
"You had been in no peril had you used your wits," I said. "Yon pool's no deeper than your breast, so you had only to put your feet down. And why should you fear a poor little frog?"
"All Persians fear frogs."
"In Hera's name, why?"
"We are brought up to think them evil spirits. Now that I have traveled and mingled with foreigners, I am not so sure about the spirits. But I cannot overcome the fear put into my soul in childhood."
"If you cannot swim, 'tis time you learned. Come hither and let me show you how to float."
"No, really, I do not feel well enough—"
"Come here! That's a command. I'll hold you ..."
An hour's struggle taught Vardanas to float on his back, though betimes he nearly drowned his teacher when panic seized him and he caught me round the neck. As we were drying ourselves, I said:
"What said that Persian poem about wine-red singing sands?"
"Oh, that. You will see them shortly."
"What?"
"Yes. I believe they lie beyond Phrada, in the Desert of Despair. Our route to Nia lies thither."
"By King Zeus, you Persians have cheerful names for places! 'Twas bad enow knowing we had to cross the Waterless Plain, but the Desert of Despair is worse."
The Hellenes cruelly chaffed Vardanas over his frog panic, calling him "Froggy Vardanas." He took no umbrage, having a ready wit and returning as good as he got.
"I wouldn't make so much of Vardanas' irrational fear of frogs," said Pyrron at our evening's talk. "We all have, I daresay, something we fear beyond reason, did we but admit it. Elisas fears violence of any sort. I fear caves and similar enclosures. What do you fear, Leon?"
"High places," I said. "How about you, Thyestes?"