"Is not so," said Gnouros. "Are horseback riders. Not Sakas; the other kind, with turbans."
I glanced toward the Sipta. "We might get across the river. They might not want us badly enough to swim their horses after us."
Otaspes shook his head. "I cannot swim, and anyway I am foredone with all this running and capering. I am ready to die as a Persian gentleman should."
"Oh, come on! I'll drag you across. It's not deep here."
I had to bully the exhausted Persian back on his feet. We set out at a trot towards the river. At this place, however, a bend took the Sipta a couple of furlongs from the road. We were still far from the water when a hail and a drumming of hooves told us that the Arjunayanas were upon us.
We faced about and drew our swords, our bows having been left back at the elephant's corpse with the rest of our gear. A couple of the leading horsemen bore down upon us, lances couched and dyed beards fluttering in the air, with the obvious intention of running us through.
"Get ready to throw yourself to the side at the last instant," I gasped.
Then came the twang of a bowstring, and another, and a whole chorus of them. No musical tune ever sounded sweeter. One Arjunayana fell from his horse. The horse of another, hit in the rump, reared and threw its rider.
The Sakan troop galloped nigh, bows snapping and arrows whistling. In a trice the Arjunayanas had wheeled and galloped away. The foremost Saka, young Tymnes, cantered up with his green-and-russet cloak billowing.
"Now, sirs," he said, "you see that we lied not when we told you of the valor and ferocity of the noble Saulian clan."
"How did you happen along so timely?" I asked.
"We had to cut our way out of Ozenê and lost one of our brave lads doing it. When we came to the elephant's carcass, we saw those sand thieves chasing somebody towards the river. One of our men, whose sight is keen even for an eagle-eyed Saulian, said the fugitives looked like you and Master Otaspes. So, having broken bread with Master Otaspes, we did our duty as gentlemen. I have spoken."
The rest of the Sakas now arrived. Some led extra horses laden with baggage. A couple went after the riderless Arjunayana horses with lariats, while others dismounted to pick up spent arrows and to scalp the three fallen Arjunayanas. They hung the bloody scalps from their horse trappings and remounted.
I thanked Tymnes profusely and explained our situation.
"I had hoped," said he, "to enjoy the company of you and Master Otaspes from here to Vidisha, since I deem you persons of mettle suitable for a noble Saka like myself to befriend. But what must be, must be. Permit me, then, to present you with these three Indian horses. They are poor stuff compared with our noble steppe breed, but they will get you back to Barygaza. And I shall at least have the pleasure of your company to the next ford across the Sipta. Let us go!"
BOOK VI — Ananias the Judaean
As we beat our way westward, the country became more barren, until it bore a mere scattering of shrubs, like that on the hills in the drier lands about the Inner Sea. Otaspes assured me, however, that the true desert still lay far to the northwest.
Then I fell sick again. I asked Otaspes if it were not well to get me to some peasant's hut to recover.
"I think we shall do better camping out," he said. "The rains are over, and in such a hut you would probably pick up some even deadlier ailment."
So we camped. Otaspes killed an antelope with his bow, so that for a time we ate well. But I seemed to get no better.
"Go on and leave me to die alone," I said. "I'm weary of life, for I've failed in the main task I set myself."
"And what is that?" said Otaspes. "Learning the secrets of the universe from these so-called holy men?"
"Not quite." And at last I told the Persian of my real motive in coming to India.
"Oh," he said. "Well, your slave will not argue with you— one Hellene can out-talk three Persians any day—but I will certainly not leave you to perish. You saved me from the Arjunayanas when I was ready to give up, and I can do no less for you."
So, over my feeble protests, he and Gnouros nursed me back to health. With the return of health came the feeling that, while making love to a woman was certainly one of life's major pleasures, it was not the only one.
The moon was full, in the middle of Maimakterion, when we again took up our journey. The land became yet more desertlike. At night, instead of the snarl of the tiger and the trumpeting of the wild elephant, we were serenaded by the roar of the lion and the howl of the wolf.
Near the headwaters of the Mais, we passed through an area that the rains had missed the past season. Everywhere people were starving and dying. It was hard to find a place near the road to stop for lunch where a shriveled corpse or two did not lie in view. To keep from starving ourselves— since there was no food to be bought—we kidnaped one of those scrawny little cows that wander about, dragged her to a hidden ravine, and slaughtered her. If the Indians had found out, they would have torn us limb from limb. Any right-thinking Indian would as lief eat his own mother as one of these sacred beasts, even to save his life.
Once we passed a huge, stone-lined reservoir that some former king had built, with stone steps leading down from one side for religious ablutions. The reservoir was half full of water, which had been allowed to stand for a long time. The surface was covered with a green scum, under which we found the water clear and drinkable. When I wondered that the Indians did not use this water on their parched fields, Otaspes asked several until he got the story. Years before, it transpired, a man had fallen into the tank and drowned. This rendered the tank religiously polluted, so that they could not use its water again, a generation or more later, even to avert starvation.
This region was strongly Brachmanist. Having been warned of the Brachmanists' hatred of Hellenes, I bought a turban and learnt to wind it so as to be less conspicuous. I also kept my mouth shut around the Indians and let Otaspes do the talking.
Curiously, this land had no king. It was a kind of republic, ruled by an oligarchic senate of big landowners. Now and then we saw members of this aristocracy, going about their affairs and complacently ignoring the skeletal wretches expiring on all sides of them.
We reached the Mais and started down it. The land again became jungled. Progress was hard because many ravines, cut by the tributaries of the Mais, lay athwart our path. Furthermore, the land afforded good cover for tigers and for brigands. We were warned that it had plenty of both. But whatever gods there be must have decided that we had had enough adventures, for we saw neither tigers nor robbers.
And so, at the beginning of Poseidon, we reached Barygaza. I parted with Otaspes, rode to the Ourania's dock, and dismounted. With a yell, Linos rushed ashore to greet me.
"Where's Hippalos?" I asked. "Still in that hut with the Indian girl?"
"No, sir ..." Linos seemed at a loss.
"Out with it, man! What has he been up to?"
"You'll find Hippalos in the woods, Captain, living with that holy man."
"Sisonaga?"
"Aye."
"Hermes attend us! How did that come about?"
"Well, sir, I don't like to carry tales, but that Indian girl ran home to her father, complaining that Master Hippalos had mistreated her."
"How?"
"I don't rightly know. Beatings, I heard, and something about burning with hot coals. Anyway, her old man and two young kinsmen—sons or nephews, I suppose—came looking for Master Hippalos with spears. Hippalos fled to Sis-what's-his-name's hut, because the Indians won't do anything violent around a holy man.
"He's been there for nigh a month. When I go to him to ask about the ship, I find him standing on his head, and all he says is: 'See to it, Linos; I'm solving the secrets of the cosmos.' "