Значение Дальнего Востока в экономике России

The travellers were all either killed or captured. 
 
   The Arabs, who belonged to one tribe, divided the prisoners and the booty and continued on their way, half going to the north, the rest to the east. 
 
   Near Said four armed men rode, who treated him to bitter looks and fierce curses; 
   and he felt sure that the young Arab he had killed must have been a prince, or the chief of his tribe. 
 
   Slavery would, he thought, be worse than death, and he hoped, as he had evidently aroused the hatred of the entire band, that death would soon end all his troubles. 
 
   He hardly dared to look back, for his guards rode close at his side. 
 
   But it comforted him to see that his good horse was safe, and also the old man, for he thought he lay among the dead. 

At last trees and tents were seen in the distance; 
   and as the cavalcade drew nearer, a crowd of women and children came out to meet them; 
   but hardly had the Arabs greeted them than they burst out weeping and wailing, and cast threatening looks at Said and tried to strike him. 

"This," they cried, "is the wretch who has killed Almansor, bravest of men ! 
 
   Surely he shall die !" 

Then they threw sticks and stones at Said, so that the Arabs had to close round to protect him. 

"Be off, you youngsters! 
 
   keep back, you women !" 
 
   they shouted, and drove back the crowd with their lances. 
 
   "He killed Almansor and he must die, but not by the hands of women, but by the swords of the brave." 

As they neared some tents which stood somewhat apart, they halted; 
   the prisoners were tied two and two together; 
   the booty was taken to the tents; 
   and Said was shackled and led to the largest tent of all. 
 
   There sat an old man in splendid garments, whose grave, dignified mien showed that he was chief of this tribe. 
 
   The men who led Said in stepped forward with sad and downcast looks. 

"The wailing of the women has told me what has happened," said this majestic old Chief, as he looked at the men; 
   "your bearing confirms it. 
 
   Almansor is dead !" 

"Almansor is dead," answered the men, "but here, great Selim, Protector of the Desert, is his murderer; 
   and we bring him to you for judgment. 
 
   What manner of death shall he die ? 
 
   Shall we kill him with the arrow, shall he run the gauntlet of the lance, shall he be hanged by the neck, or torn apart by wild horses ?" 

"Who are you ?" 
 
   asked Selim, looking thoughtfully at the youth, who in the face of death stood calm and fearless before him. 

Said answered the question briefly and without hesitation. 

"Did you kill my son treacherously ? 
 
   Did you shoot him in the back with an arrow, or so stab him with a lance ?" 

"No, my lord," answered SaId. 
 
   "I killed him in fair fight, and in sight of my fellow-travellers, after he had slain at least eight of our party." 

"Is this true ?" 
 
   asked Selim of the men who had brought Said in. 

"Yes, my lord, he killed Almansor in fair fight." 

"Then he has done no more than we ourselves would do," said Selim. 
 
   "He fought honourably with one who would have robbed him of life and liberty, and killed him. 
 
   Unloose his bonds !" 

The men seemed astounded and muttered angrily as they released Said. 

"If Almansor’s murderer is not to die," said one, looking furiously at Said, "it is a pity we brought him with us." 

"He shall not die," said the Chief, "and I claim him as my share of the spoil. 
 
   He shall remain in my tent and be my servant." 

Said could not speak. 
 
   His feelings overpowered him; 
   and he could not even express his gratitude to the Chief. 
 
   The men went muttering out of the tent, and when they told the women and children old Selim’s decision, a horrible cry arose, and they swore that if Selim would not avenge his son’s death, they themselves would. 

The other prisoners were divided between the tribe. 
 
   Some were sent to get money to ransom the richer amongst them, others were obliged to mind the flocks, and some who had kept in their own homes at least ten slaves to wait upon them, had to perform the very lowest services in the camp. 
 
   Not so Said. 
 
   Either because of his noble appearance or owing to the secret influence of the good fairy, the old Chief showed him much favour. 
 
   Indeed, Said’s position in the tent was more that of a son than a slave. 
 
   But the indulgence of their master roused the anger of the other servants. 
 
   Said had to bear indignant and jealous looks, and often as he went through the camp an arrow struck him, which undoubtedly was meant to kill him, but that he still lived, Said felt sure must be owing to the magic whistle which he always wore beneath his shirt. 
 
   He often told Selim of these attempts on his life, but it would have been useless to try to find the culprits, for the whole tribe was against him. 

So one day Selim said: 

"I had hoped you might have become as my son, in the place of him you slew. 
 
   It is not your fault nor mine that this cannot be, but all the tribe are bitter against you, and I cannot answer any longer for your safety; 
   and it would not do me any good to kill those who are sure to kill you. 
 
   So when the men return from their wanderings, I shall tell them that your father has paid your ransom, and I will send three trustworthy men to guide you through the desert." 

"But I cannot trust any one of your tribe," said Said. 
 
   "They will probably kill me on the way !" 

The oath they must swear to me shall be your protection," said the Chief; 
   "they dare not break that !" 

Some days later the Arabs returned and Selim gave them his commands. 
 
   He presented Said with clothes, arms, and a horse, chose for his guides five of his most valiant men, bound them by a fearful oath not to kill the youth, and parted from him with tears of regret. 

The five men rode silently and sullenly along with Said in their midst. 
 
   Said saw how unwillingly they undertook the errand, and noticed that two of them took part in the fight in which he had slain Almansor. 
 
   When they had ridden about eight hours, Said heard them whispering, and observed that they seemed more threatening in their manners. 
 
   He listened, and found that they were talking to each other in a dialect peculiar to the tribe, and which Selim had learnt during his stay in the Sheikh’s tent. 
 
   What he overheard was not encouraging. 

"This is the place," said one of them; 
   "‘twas here we held up the caravan, and here this boy killed the bravest of the brave." 

"The wind has blown away all traces in the sand," said another, "but I have not forgotten the spot." 

"And to our shame he is living and a free man. 
 
   Who could believe that a father would not avenge the death of his son ? 
 
   Selim is getting childish." 

"And if his father is forgetful of his duty, then it is ours to avenge our fallen friend. 
 
   Let us kill Said on this spot. 
 
   By the rules of our warfare we may take his life." 

"But we have sworn an oath to our Chief" said the fifth; 
   "we dare not kill him !" 

"That is true," replied one of the band; 
   "we have given our word, and so the murderer goes free." 

"Stop," cried one. 
 
   "The old Chief is a clever man, but not so clever as he thinks; 
   we have only sworn not to kill. 
 
   But we did not promise to take him anywhere in particular. 
 
   So the scorching sun and the sharp teeth of the jackal may serve our purpose. 
 
   Here on this spot we will bind him and leave him to his fate." 
 
   So the robbers made their plans, but Said, who had already heard enough, put his spurs to his horse and rode for his life. 
 
   But though the men were startled for a moment, they were well used to such tactics, and two of them quickly overtook the youth, and as he turned to escape from them, he found himself surrounded by the other three. 
 
   The oath they had sworn protected his life as far as that was concerned; 
   but they threw a lasso over his head, jerked him out of his saddle, beat him unmercifully, bound him hand and foot, and left him lying on the burning sand of the desert. 

Said begged and prayed them to have pity. 
 
   He promised them a handsome sum of money in ransom; 
   but it was no good; 
   and laughing, they mounted their horses and rode off. 
 
   For a few minutes he listened to the sound of the horses’ feet, and then gave himself up for lost. 
 
   He thought of his father, of his grief should his son no more return; 
   he thought of his wretched fate, for death seemed so sure. 
 
   How could he prevent it ? 
 
   If the sun did not kill him, the jackals would. 

The sun rose higher and higher in the heavens, and its fierce rays scorched his forehead. 
 
   He tried to turn over, but even the change of position gave him little advantage. 
 
   In doing so, however, the whistle fell out of his shirt, and after many attempts he managed to get it between his lips, and tried to blow it; 
   but even in his dreadful need, no sound could he produce. 
 
   Utterly disheartened he sank down again, and at last lost consciousness. 

After many hours Said was awakened by a noise near at hand; 
   and found too that something was holding him by the shoulder, and he uttered a cry of alarm, for he thought it was surely a jackal attacking him. 
 
   Then he felt his legs held fast, but not by the ropes used by the Arabs, but by the hands of a man who seemed to be tending him, and who was speaking to another standing by. 
 
   "He lives," they were saying, "but he thinks we are enemies !" 

At last Said opened his eyes, and saw bending over him a little fat man with small eyes and a long beard; 
   who spoke kindly and helped him to rise, brought food and drink, and said that his name was Kalum Bey, and he was a merchant of Bagdad. 
 
   He was returning from a trading expedition, and had noticed an apparently lifeless body on the sand. 

The youth thanked him heartily for his goodness, saying undoubtedly he must have died; 
   and then told Kalum Bey his history. 
 
   As he had now no money, and could not go on foot all through the desert, he gratefully accepted a seat on the back of one of the already heavily laden camels. 
 
   He thought he would go first to Bagdad and then to Bassora. 

On the way the merchant told him much about the notable Protector of the Faithful, the great Haroun al Raschid. 
 
   He spoke of his keen sense of honour and justice, and of his eccentricities 

"Our great lord, Haroun," said Kalum Bey, "is a wonderful man. 
 
   If you think that he even sleeps like other people, you are mistaken. 
 
   I know this, because Messour, his Chamberlain, is my cousin, and although he would never betray his master’s secrets, he sometimes lets fall a word here and there. 
 
   Instead, then, of sleeping like ordinary men, the Caliph walks at night through the streets of the city, seeking adventures. 
 
   Generally he is alone, sometimes he takes two followers. 
 
   He dresses himself either as a merchant or a soldier, and he carefully observes how the laws of the city are kept. 
 
   So it happens that we in Bagdad are rather particular in our ways at night, for the dirty-looking Arab who may hustle us in passing is as likely to be Haroun as any one else." 

Said was glad he was going to Bagdad, where he might see this powerful Sultan. 
 
   In ten days’ time they reached the end of their journey, and the youth was greatly surprised at the exceeding beauty of the city. 
 
   The merchant invited him to come to his home, and Said agreed, for without money and among strangers such a hospitable offer was very acceptable. 

The day after his arrival, when he was dressed, he told his host he would go for a walk through the town, but the merchant laughed and stroked his beard, and then said: 

"All very fine, young man ! 
 
   But what will become of you and your fine clothes, if you have nothing to bite or sup ?" 

"Dear Kalum Bey," said the young man, blushing, "I have no money, certainly, but if you will lend me a little, I will go home to my father. 
 
   He will honestly pay you again !" 

"Your father, boy ?" 
 
   cried the merchant, laughing. 
 
   "I believe the sun has affected your mind. 
 
   Do you think I believed a word of the story you told me in the desert ? 
 
   Who is your father ? 
 
   A rich man in Bassora ? 
 
   Then I ought to know him; 
   but I have never heard of Benezar. 
 
   Your story is a pack of lies. 
 
   You are either a robber or a rogue. 
 
   Your father is no doubt a poor rascal, and to his runaway son I would not lend a penny. 
 
   And as to the affair in the desert — no one would dare while Haroun is Caliph to attack a caravan. 
 
   The whole story is a pack of lies !" 

Pale with anger, SaId would have knocked the little man down, but the merchant screamed and kicked, and shouted: 

"And you say you killed Selim’s son ! 
 
   Do you think we believed that ? 
 
   Selim’s name is well known. 
 
   He, the fiercest of chiefs, would have had you torn in pieces. 
 
   He, who has often had robbers hanged in his presence so that he could enjoy their agonies. 
 
   Oh ! 
 
   you shameless liar !" 

"I can only swear," answered the youth, "by my immortal soul, and by the beard of the Prophet, that all I told you is true !" 

"What ! 
 
   You will swear on your soul ?" 
 
   cried the merchant; 
   "by your black, lying soul ? 
 
   Who can believe you ? 
 
   And ‘by the beard of the Prophet’ ? 
 
   You who have no beard ! 
 
   The truth indeed !" 

"I have no witnesses," said Said; 
   "but you found me bound and senseless." 

"That does not matter," said the merchant. 
 
   "You were dressed like an ordinary robber, and possibly you met with a stronger robber who bound you and left you there." 

"I would like to see," said Said, with flashing eyes, "the man who could throw me and bind me; 
   but what can you do when four or five attack you, and lasso you from behind ? 
 
   However, you saved my life and I am not ungrateful. 
 
   What do you want ? 
 
   If you will not help me, I must beg; 
   and rather than accept charity I will go to the Caliph." 

"Indeed !" 
 
   said the merchant, laughing. 
 
   "You will only take alms from our noble governor ? 
 
   I call that begging! 
 
   Ei ! 
 
   Ei ! 
 
   Bethink you, young man. 
 
   The road to the Caliph is barred by my cousin, Messour, and I can easily tell him the story is untrue. 
 
   But I pity you, Said, because you are young. 
 
   There is time before you. 
 
   I will take you into my employ; 
   you shall bind yourself to me for a year, and then I will give you your wages and you can go wherever you please, to Aleppo or Medina; 
   to Stamboul or Bassora — or ——— ! 
 
   I will give you till noon to decide. 
 
   If you do not accept my offer, I will calculate what you have cost me up to now, and will insist on having your clothes in payment; 
   and then I will turn you out in the streets, and you can go to the Caliph or to the Mufti in the Mosque, or you can beg in the market-place." 

And with this the merchant went out the room. 
 
   Said was furious. 
 
   He was so angry with the little wretch that he could have done almost anything to him; 
   but after all he was in his power. 
 
   He thought he would leave the house, but found that the door of his room was fastened. 
 
   At last, when he was in a more reasonable mood, he decided it might be best after all to accept Kalum Bey’s offer. 
 
   He knew that without money he could never reach Bassora. 
 
   And he resolved as soon as possible to seek the aid of Haroun al Raschid. 

The following day Kalum Bey took his new apprentice to the Bazaar. 
 
   He showed Said the shawls and stuffs and other wares in which he dealt, and explained his methods of dealing. 
 
   He insisted that Said should wear the costume of a merchant’s assistant, and should stand in the doorway of his shop, calling to the passers-by to come and buy; 
   and now Said understood why Kalum Bey had wished for his services. 
 
   For the ugly little man drove customers away, whereas the women admired the young salesman and bought from him very willingly. 

When Kalum Bey found how much his business had improved since Said stood at the door of his shop, he treated him better, fed him well, and dressed him in smarter clothes. 
 
   But Said, although he attended just as well as before to his duties, thought day and night of only one thing, namely, how he could manage to go back to his own dear city. 

One day, when there had been so many customers that all the porters were away from the shop carrying the goods bought to the houses of their owners, a woman entered the bazaar and wanted to make some purchases at Kalum Bey’s. 
 
   She was a long time making her choice, and having done so, asked for some one to carry her parcels home, saying she would give the porter a fee for himself. 

"I can send some one in half an hour’s time," said Kalum Bey. 
 
   "At present all my porters are out." 

"I cannot wait, and I do not want a strange porter," said the woman. 
 
   "But look, there is one of your assistants. 
 
   Let him carry my purchases." 

"No, no !" 
 
   cried the merchant. 
 
   "He is my decoy; 
   my signpost ! 
 
   He must not leave the door." 

"Nonsense," exclaimed the woman, and gave her parcel to Said. 
 
   "It’s a pretty thing if you cannot hold your own in business, but have to rely on a handsome assistant ! 
 
   Come, lad, you shall have an opportunity of earning an extra fee to-day. 
 
   For, good or bad, Kalum Bey is bound to stay and mind his shop himself." 

Said followed the woman. 
 
   They went through the market and many streets. 
 
   At last they reached a fine house at the door of which she knocked. 
 
   It was opened immediately, the woman entered, and Said followed her. 
 
   They came to a large and splendidly furnished room. 
 
   The woman seated herself on a divan, while Said laid his bundle down, and was about to depart, having already received a silver piece for himself. 

"Said," cried a gentle voice. 
 
   He looked wonderingly round, and saw, instead of the old woman, a beautiful lady sitting on the cushions surrounded by many attendants. 
 
   Said was too much astonished for words. 

"Said," said the lady, "much as I regret the misfortunes which were the cause of your coming to Bagdad, they are the result of your leaving your native city before you were twenty years of age, they were part of your fate in life. 
 
   Have you your whistle still ?" 

"Indeed I have," joyfully exclaimed the youth, as he drew it and the gold chain out. 
 
   "And surely you are the good fairy who gave it to me !" 

"I was your mother’s friend," answered the fairy, "and am also yours, Said. 
 
   If your father had followed my advice, you would have been spared all these unhappy experiences." 

"It cannot be helped," replied Said. 
 
   "But now, dear fairy, help me to get away from Bagdad. 
 
   Send me back on a magic cloud to Bagdad, to my father. 
 
   There will I remain the six months that remain before my twentieth birthday." 

"You have a coaxing way," said the fairy, "but what you ask is impossible. 
 
   As long as you are in a strange place I cannot help you. 
 
   I cannot even release you from Kalum Bey. 
 
   He is under the protection of your mightiest enemy."