Inaudos the Kordian was with him. The twain conducted us to the carts. Inaudos, grinning, thrust his arms into a cart full of food. Under the sacks of flour, on the floor of the cart, lay our money.
Inaudos went to another cart full of hay. Underneath were piled the animal skins and other specimens from India.
"Did you do this?" I said.
"Yes," said Elisas. "Inaudos helped me. We thought chaining up the chests and posting guards all around them would only draw the treasurer's eye to them. Did, too. So we moved all the treasure to these carts and put earth and firewood in the chests. Then when Harpalos' men took our chests and left chests full of bricks, they only traded bricks for sand and wood."
"Why didna you tell me? We've nigh hand died of grief and shock!"
"I was not sure you would like the plan. You are a godlike man, terrible in your wrath. We thought that if nothing befell our chests, we would put the treasure back into them after leaving Tarsos."
"Oh, bless you both!" I cried, hugging and kissing them. "Little friends have surely proved great friends." I went to the cart with the money and counted out fifty drachmai for each. "Here, billies, do as you like with it. Though we're short of funds, I'll take this out of my own pay if I must."
"Too much," said Elisas. "You saved my life, so this is a small thing to do for you in return."
"Take it, and dispute me not, lest my normal thrift make itself felt again. Off with you!"
Some of the men overheard our talk and gathered to learn what was afoot. When they understood the stratagem of the sutler and the Kordian, they cheered them, too.
"It were fitting if you rewarded their quickness of wit out of your own purses," I told the Thessalians sternly. "Were it no for them, yesternight's folly had left us destitute."
Shamefaced, the Thessalians dug into their purses to add to the reward I had given. Some cursed Harpalos with all the vigor of old soldiers and uttered grandiose threats of vengeance against him.
Pyrron said: "Be thankful you've taken your head safely out of the wolf's mouth, as the wolf said to the crane in the fable. And now, an interesting question for speculation has just occurred to me. What will Harpalos do when he discovers that his men have brought him two chests full of earth?"
"By the Dog!" I cried. "I know not what he'll do, but I know what we'd better do, and smartly! Strike the tents! Tonight we shall march till we drop!"
Dusk closed down upon us as the road wound up through the foothills towards the defile called the Kilikian Gate. There was a clatter of hooves behind us and a hail. I rode back to see what was up. A rider was trying to reach the tail of our column, but his horse would not go near the elephant, and there was not enough room to pass around the beast. The man waved and shouted:
"In the name of Harpalos, treasurer of the empire, you are commanded on pain of death to return at once to Tarsos!"
I glanced back, caught Vardanas' eye, and made the motion of shooting. Vardanas' bowstring twanged. The man screeched and fell off his horse, which bolted.
"Hide this carrion," I said.
Inaudos and another camp man hauled the corpse to the mouth of a narrow ravine and tossed it behind a thicket.
"Now hasten!" I said. "We've gained a few hours by slaying that wight; let us see that we make good use of it! Get up!"
The ramparts of the Kilikian Gate closed in upon us. Crags of limestone loomed over us like the towers of some Kyklops' castle. There was scarce room for our carts and the elephant betwixt the cliff on one side and the swift cold stream that furrows the pass on the other. The roar of the river almost drowned the creaking of axles and the clatter of hooves. On our right rose the cliff face where an inscription tells of Alexander's passage through the gate on his way to Issos, but it was too dark to read the writing.
We made another sixty or seventy furlongs ere we halted again. We not only suffered great fatigue but also feared, in the darkness of the gorge, to stray off the road into the river.
The next day we pushed on, with no further sign of pursuit from Tarsos. The gorge broadened into a vale of tamarisks, on both sides of which rose the steep slopes of the Taurus, clad in somber forests of oak and fir. Although the footing became easier, it now began to rain.
We struggled on, but the rain turned to snow. Kanadas said: "Must stop, Troop Leader."
"Why?" I asked.
"Elephant get cold, die. Must make fire to warm him."
"We dare not start a fire here!" I said. "Between Harpalos' men behind and Arivarates' men before, we're in peril every moment on this road."
"No, no, must have fire! Otherwise elephant freeze feet, die! What is use of all this work and travel if my beautiful Mahankal die?" The Indian began to weep.
"A plague upon it!" I said. "Very well; let us begin to look for a sheltered spot."
I peered ahead into the grayness. As there was no wind, and the snow was damp, every feathery frond of the tamarisks was coated with white. Within another furlong we found a little vale where a brook came in from the side. A naked crag, leaning out over this dell, provided some shelter. Soon we had a small fire blazing, whilst melting snow made puddles all around us.
"I like it not," I said to Thyestes. "We sudna stop nor light a fire till we're past Tyana."
"I thinks 'tis safe," he said. "Seldom maun Arivarates' men come so far south. And 'twould take a gey forcible officer to gar his men go plowing athort the country on sic a day!"
As Thyestes usually insisted on more care against possible foemen than the rest of us thought needful, I cast off my forebodings and rode out with Vardanas and the Dahas to set up mounted pickets.
But, to the man in fear, everything rustles. My heart all but leapt from my mouth when there came a crashing of feet and a flurry of snow. A spotted deer, fleeing for its life, almost blundered into us, scrambled for its footing, recovered, and started off in a new direction. With the speed of lightning, Spargapithas whipped his Sakan bow from its case and let fly. The deer fell dead.
Just then a leopard, shaggy in its winter coat, bounded towards us. I suppose the snow had deadened our sound and scent so that the beast, intent on its quarry, was unaware of us. Our horses snorted and reared. Seeing us at last, the leopard slid to a stop, gave a spitting snarl, and scampered off. Spargapithas loosed a second shaft but missed. He cursed in Sakan as he searched for his arrow.
Vardanas said: "He fears we will take the deer back to camp and eat it before his watch be over."
"Tell him to worry not," I said. "We'll not touch tooth to it ere he come."
We took the deer back to camp, where the men received it with cheers, despite their dank condition, and helped to skin the beast. I told the cook:
"Stand back, fellow; this is one nice piece of flesh I'll not have spoilt."
I prepared to roast the deer myself, heedless of loss of dignity. The snow kept falling. The wind rose and the air grew colder. Aias squealed and grumbled unhappily. Kanadas, feeding his pet's insatiable maw with hay, said:
"Must rig tent, Troop Leader, to keep cold wind off him. Blanket not enough."
I told Thyestes to work on that. For hours the men cut poles, pinned tent cloths together, and wrestled with ropes. Twice they had the contraption nearly up when it fell down. Aias moaned and gurgled sadly. Meanwhile I cooked the deer.
It was late afternoon when the elephant tent was rigged at last. It formed a covering over Aias' back and one side, while the crag protected his other side. Alas! We no sooner got the tent up, the last rope tied, and the last peg driven, when Aias gave a playful tug with his trunk. Down came the tent in a heap.