Jimgrim and Allahs Peace | Page 7

from Damascus,
where the French Liaison-officer paid me and gave me some
instructions."
"Where is your home?" I asked him.
"At El-Kerak, in the mountains of Moab, across the Dead Sea. I start
this evening. Will you come with me?"
"Je m'en bien garderai!"
He smiled. "Myself, I am in favor of the British. The French pay my
expenses, that is all. What we all want is an independent Arab
government--some say kingdom, some say republic. If it is not time for
that yet, then we would choose an American mandate. But America has
deserted us. Failing America, we prefer the English for the present.
Anything except France! We do not want to become a new Algeria."
"What is the condition now at El-Kerak?"
"Condition? There is none. There is chaos. You see, the British say
their authority ceases at the River Jordan and at a line drawn down the
middle of the Dead Sea. That leaves us with a choice between two
other governments--King Hussein's government of Mecca, and Feisul's
in Syria. But Hussein's arm is not long enough to reach us from the
South, and Feisul's is not nearly strong enough to interfere from the
North. So there is no government, and each man is keeping the peace
with his own sword."

"You mean; each man on his own account?"
"Yes. So there is peace. Five--fifteen--thirty throats are cut daily; and if
you go down to the Jordan and listen, you will hear the shots being
fired from ambush any day."
"And you invite me to make the trip with you?"
"Oh, that is nothing. In the first place, you are American. Nobody will
interfere with an American. They are welcome. In the second place,
there is a good reason for bringing you; we all want an American
school at El-Kerak."
"But I am no teacher."
"But you will be returning to America? It is enough, then, that you look
the situation over, and tell what you know on your return. We will
provide a building, a proper salary, and guarantee the teacher's life. We
would prefer a woman, but it would be wisest to send a man."
"How so? The woman might not shoot straight? I've some of our
Western women do tricks with a gun that would--"
"There would be no need. She would have our word of honour. But
every sheikh who has only three wives would want to make her his
fourth. A man would be best. Will you come with me?"
"On your single undertaking to protect me? Are you king of all that
countryside?"
"If you will come, you shall have an escort, every man of whom will
die before he would let you be killed. And if they, and you, should all
be killed, their sons and grandsons would avenge you to the third
generation of your murderers."
"That's undoubtedly handsome, but--"
"Believe me, effendi," he urged, "many a soul has been consoled in
hell-fire by the knowledge that his adversaries would be cut off in their

prime by friends who are true to their given word."
Meaning to back out politely, I assured him I would think the offer
over.
"Well and good," he answered. "You have my promise. Should you
decide to come, leave word here with the American Colony. They will
get word to me. Then I will send for you, and the escort shall meet you
at the Dead Sea."
I talked it over with two or three members of the Colony, and they
assured me the promise could be depended on. One of them added:
"Besides, you ought to see El-Kerak. It's an old crusader city, rather
ruined, but more or less the way the crusaders left it. And that craving
of theirs for a school is worth doing something about, if you ever have
an opportunity. They say they have too much religion already, and no
enlightenment at all. A teacher who knew Arabic would have a
first-class time, and would be well paid and protected, if he could keep
his hands off politics. Why not talk with Major Grim?"
It was a half-hour's walk to Grim's place, but I had the good fortune to
catch him in again. He was sitting in the same chair, studying the same
book, and this time I saw the title of it-- Walter Pater's Marius the
Epicurean--a strange book for a soldier to be reading, and cutting its
pages with an inlaid dagger, in a Jerusalem semi-military
boarding-house. But he was a man of unexpectedly assorted moods.
He laughed when I told of ben Nasir. He looked serious when I mooted
El-Kerak--serious, then interested, them speculative. From where I sat I
could watch the changes in his eyes.
"What would the escort amount to?" I asked him.
"Absolute security."
"And