Linos, a couple of sailors, and I went ashore and found an Arab with my arrow through his brisket, spitting bloody foam with each breath. We carried him, feebly begging for mercy, aboard. By threats of finishing him off in interesting ways, I got his name and the name of his ship. Linos said:
"Captain, I've been looking these Arab ships over. They're made of little pieces of scrap lumber tied together with strings. If I took a gang of the boys, we could board one and knock a hole in her bottom in no time."
"Not yet," I said. "We don't want to start a feud between all the Hellenes and all the Arabs that may use this port forever more; bad for trade. Leave this to me."
Hippalos, returning, whistled when he learnt what had happened. The Arab died at dawn. I went ashore, hunted up the harbor master, and made him understand that I wanted Rama. He gave me the usual insolent stare, rattled directions at me, and—when I did not understand—sent a guard to show me the way. The guard found Rama's house, but the sailor's two little wives informed us that the master was out. '
I was wandering aimlessly about the town, looking for Rama and followed by the bored harbor guard, when I heard a hail. It was Otaspes the Persian, who said:
"Well, well! I did not know you were a hero like the Persian Thretonas and the Greek Achilles rolled into one."
"What have you heard?"
"Only that you beat all the Arabs in Barygaza in pitched battle, single-handed."
"That's a slight exaggeration." I told him what had really happened.
"Since when," he asked, "has any Hellene been able to shoot like a Persian?"
"This Hellene learnt how among the Scythians. Now, I don't want to make too much of this brawl, but I should like to lay a complaint before the king, to stop it before it gets out of hand. Can you help me?"
Thus it came to pass that, late that afternoon, we stood again before the king's house. The corpse lay on the ground on a stretcher, and the crews of the two ships involved—the one to which the dead man had belonged, and that of the man whose arm I had broken—stood before the terrace with their hands bound and soldiers guarding them.
"Now hear this!" said King Kumara. "Master Eudoxos does not wish to go to extremes in this matter. But, lest any of you be tempted to disturb the peace again, I will keep you and you—" (he pointed to one man from each crew) "—as a hostage until your ship is ready to sail. If aught befall Captain Eudoxos or any of his men in Barygaza, you shall be trampled by elephants. And I have doubled the waterfront patrol. Court is dismissed."
As Otaspes and I walked to his house through the rain, the Persian said: "I am sorry you had trouble, but that's the way of things. These Arabs are an emotional lot: good friends but bad enemies, and one never knows which tack they will take. Luckily, most are friends of mine, and I'll try to smooth things over. And, if I may make a suggestion, do not wander the streets at night without high, thick boots."
"Why? To kick marauders with?"
"No; serpents. This land swarms with them. People are always going out to visit their uncle Krishna at night, treading on a venomous serpent, and being found dead in the morning. That is what befell that former sailor of yours, the Egyptian."
"Apries? Is he dead?"
"Yes; had you not heard? The harbor patrol found him this morning; he was trying to break into somebody's house when he trod on this serpent."
"Lovely country," I said. Startled by Otaspes' news, I had paused in my stride. While I hesitated, staring Indians began to collect in a circle around us. Annoyed, I pushed through the circle and resumed our walk, moving more briskly.
"Not so fast, old man!" said Otaspes. "I do not have legs like tree trunks, as you have."
"Sorry," I said, "but this constantly being stared at bothers me. Have these folk never seen a man from the West before?"
"There have been no Hellenes here for decades. Half a century ago, they tell me, Apollodotos, who was a satrap of the Greek king Demetrios, marched down here from Syrastrenê and demanded submission. The Barygazans gave it on condition of retaining their local self-government. So for a time the city had a Greek garrison, first under Demetrios and then under the great Menandros. But after Menandros died, about thirty years ago, these Greeks marched away to take part in the struggle for his empire; for God has given you Hellenes all the virtues save the ability to work together. Hence you and your shipmates are the first Hellenes seen here in a score of years and are naturally objects of curiosity."
As we walked, I became aware that two Indians, who had formed part of the crowd we had escaped, were following us, stopping when we stopped and pretending interest in the nearest display of merchandise. After we had rounded several corners, so that there could be no mistake, I called Otaspes' attention to this escort. He only gave his little silent laugh and explained:
"Those are the spies from Magadha and Andhra."
"How do you mean? Where are those lands?"
"I see you are not up on Indian politics. Well, a hundred and some years ago, a mighty king of Magadha, one Ashoka —named for one of these flowering trees—conquered most of India. Then he turned Buddhist and discovered that conquering and slaying people was wrong. In fact, he came to believe in no killing whatever and ordained that no man should slay even an animal, on pain of death. This does not make sense to me, but perhaps your Greek logic can explain it. Of course, Ashoka did not free all the hundreds of tribes and kingdoms he had conquered, but I suppose that were too much to ask.
"After Ashoka died, his empire broke up. At the moment, the strongest powers are Magadha, that way—" (he pointed northeast) "•—and Andhra, that way." (He pointed southeast.) "As Ashoka's successor, King Odraka of Magadha claims to be the rightful ruler of all India. But the king of Andhra, Skandhastambhi, says he should be the rightful ruler. So they fight, and each sends agents into other nations, to subvert the local rule in favor of some puppet of their respective masters. The Brachmanes love to harp on the virtues of harmlessness and pacifism, but at the same time they tell each king he has a moral duty to enlarge his realm until it comprises the whole earth. So, naturally, the Indians fight among themselves just as much as do the less enlightened peoples, like yours and mine."
"If you know these knaves, why not tell the king?"
"Kumara knows all about them, but he prefers to let them live and watch them. They are singularly stupid, inept spies, as you can see from the fact that you noticed them. If Kumara had them squashed by his elephants, Odraka and Skandhastambhi might send a pair who were more skilled and less easily watched."
"Is it true that descendants of Alexander's generals still rule parts of India?"
"Aye. They ruled the mountainous country to the northwest and, when Ashoka's empire fell, moved down to the plains to set up kingdoms there. Lately they, in turn, have been beaten by the Sakas and have lost much of their power."
"Who are the Sakas?"
"What you would call Scythians—the eastern branch of that race. Subdued by Mithradates of Parthia, many Sakas have moved eastward, seeking lands and fortune on the marches of India."
We reached Otaspes' house, and I met his charming Babylonian wife Nakia; for Persians, like Egyptians and Romans, are perfectly willing to let their wives meet strangers. I could talk to Nakia to some extent in Syrian. The pair had suffered much from the loss of their children to India's deadly diseases but were too well-mannered to dwell upon the subject. Otaspes merely said: