The Hidden Treasure of Rishmey-Yeh: I

DECEMBEB, 1914

I

BY ABRAHAM MITRIE RIHBANY

I

ELSEWHERE¹ I have stated that my father was a stone mason, a contractor and builder, who carried on a large business. As an apprentice to his trade I enjoyed such exceptional privileges that at the age of sixteen I was classed and paid wages as a ‘master.’

From our home town, Betater, which is situated on the western slopes of Mount Lebanon, Syria, in the province which bears the name of that historic mountain, our building enterprises radiated for many miles around. Not being able to give personal attention to all of the many applications which came to him, my father often placed me in charge of less extensive undertakings, such as the erection of ordinary dwellings, which, in so poor a country as the interior of Syria, involved no complicated architectural designs. In fact, in that part of the world we had never even heard of an architect in connection with our trade. The stone mason exercised the functions of architect, builder, and inspector.

So it happened, when I was about seventeen years old, that a man named Abu-’Azar (father of Lazarus), from a town called Rishmey-yeh, situated in a deep, picturesque valley not quite two hours’ journey on foot from Betater, besought my father to build for him a dwelling house, which was to consist of one lower and two upper rooms. Not being able to go to Rishmey-yeh himself, my father, with the consent of Abu-’Azar, assigned the task to me. My assistant, another master mason called Abu-Nezhim, was more than double my age, but he had never distinguished himself in his trade; and as my father’s fame was wide, the work was given in charge to me.

It was early autumn when my partner and I arrived in Rishmey-yeh, wearing the commanding airs of enterprise and wisdom. With dignified, patriarchal generosity Abu-’Azar received us into his hospitable home, declaring to us that he felt unworthy of the honor of having us come under his roof. Turning to me, our host said, —

‘I have no doubt your respected father sent you and your companion to me as his personal representatives, because he believes you to be wise master-builders. Therefore I honor you both, for your father’s sake, and because, even from ancient times, it has always been considered seemly to honor wise minds and skilled hands. You are exceedingly welcome to my humble dwelling and to eat my bread and salt.’

A bounteous supper was put before us, after which Abu-’Azar acquainted us with the plans for the house he had in mind.

‘I want a three-room house,’ he said, — ' the two upper rooms to be large enough to accommodate my crop of silk cocoons, and to provide space for the yield of my vines and fig trees and a comfortable shelter for me and my family. The lower room I shall use for wood, charcoal and like necessaries, leaving enough room for the stabling of a cow, and an enclosure for a brood or two of chickens. Furthermore I beg you to proceed with all speed to construct the house before the winter season overtakes us.’

To us, Abu-’Azar’s instructions seemed most concise and explicit, and his keen desire to have the house built before the winter season set in, perfectly justifiable. Therefore, Abu-Nezhim and I soon put our heads together, hitched our mental faculties to Wisdom’s star, and in a very short time informed Abu-’Azar that such a house as he contemplated building should be so many cubits long, so many high and so many wide; the walls should be one cubit thick, and the foundations, like those of the house of the ‘wise man’ of the Sermon on the Mount, were to rest on solid rock. The estimated cost was also respectfully submitted, and the delightful result was that Abu-’Azar pronounced our architectural plans faultless and the price most reasonable, and bade us proceed to make the new house a tangible reality.

We did proceed with dispatch. Early on the following morning our employer conducted us to the ‘parcel of ground ’ on which the house was to be built. It was at the southwest corner of the town, some distance from the outermost fringe of houses, and just below a rocky elevation on which stood an ancient convent of Saint Elias. We drove the stakes for the house in a spot where a rock ledge seemed nearest to the surface, located our stone quarry, and on the next morning the actual work began.

When a sufficient quantity of stone had been secured, the men were set to digging the foundation, which proved to be ‘near,’ — that is, the solid rock was soon reached; except that at the northeast corner the diggers discovered, in an area of ‘permanent’ natural rock, a round hole about five feet in diameter, apparently cut by human hands in some bygone generation. Upon inspecting the rather strange opening, I ordered the men to dig a little deeper, with the expectation that the rock-bottom would soon be reached. They therefore dug to the depth of about five feet, but no rock appeared; they found, however, mingled with the soil, small quantities of mortar and fragments of pottery, which, together with the marks of the ancient workman’s tools on the sides of the opening, awakened in us no little interest. But in order not to allow our curiosity to impede our progress, my partner, AbuNezhim, and I concluded to have the round hole filled up with stones and — that we might secure a firm foundation for that corner of the house — to bridge it over with a small arch. The men were notified to this effect and in a short time the interesting opening was filled up to a level with the surrounding rock.

But at the close of that day, after our helpers, the ‘laborers,’ had gone, Abu-’Azar, Abu-Nezhim, and I, undesignedly and by a common irresistible impulse, found ourselves standing together around the curious hole, and saying to each other, ‘What might this thing be?’

‘It may be that we have stumbled upon a mekhbaiah’ (hidden treasure), suggested Abu-Nezhim.

With a restrained but deeply significant smile Abu-’Azar remarked, ‘ I am not easily disturbed by such things, but of a truth, masters, I have had such a suspicion all this afternoon; certainly this hole is a strange thing, inasmuch as it is the work of the tool.’

My youthful mind was filled with excitement; I had had that suspicion too, and now that my elders had so expressed themselves, my hope was suddenly transformed almost into a certainty.

Nor is it strange that we were all strongly predisposed to believe that we had stumbled upon a mekhbaiah. In Syria it is universally believed that hidden treasures may be found anywhere in the land, and especially among ancient ruins. This belief rests on the simple truth that the tribes and clans of Syria, having from time immemorial lived in a state of warfare, have hidden their treasures in the ground, especially on the eve of battles. Furthermore, the wars of the past being wars of extermination, the vanquished could not return to reclaim their hidden wealth; therefore the ground is the keeper of vast riches. The tales of the digging and finding of such treasures fill the country. There are thrilling tales of treasures in various localities. Gold and other valuables are said to have been dug up in sealed earthen jars, often by the merest accident, in the ground, in the walls of houses, under enchanted trees, and in sepulchres. From earliest childhood the people’s minds are fed on these tales, and they grow up with all their senses alert to the remotest suggestion of such possibilities.

This mode of thinking is clearly reflected in that short parable in the thirteenth chapter of St. Matthew, in which it is said: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like unto treasure hid in a field; the which when a man hath found, he hideth, and for joy thereof goeth and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth that field.’ It was most natural therefore for us to suspect that the round hole might be the doorway to a vast treasure hidden somewhere in the heart of the surrounding rock, and to decide to follow up our enchanting clew.

II

At sundown we assembled at Abu’Azar’s house to take counsel together. Through mental germination, under the spell of all that we had been taught with regard to hidden treasure, ‘the will to believe’ grew steadily stronger; therefore the chief problem which presented itself to us was how to devise the best and safest method of finding the precious pots of gold.

But this problem was no simple one. In the first place the treasure might be guarded by a Russed — a dread, deathless spirit which knew neither slumber nor sleep. For was it not told often of persons who presumed to possess themselves of an enchanted treasure, that they were smitten mercilessly by the Russed with incurable physical and mental afflictions? There was Yusuf Abu-Hatim, who had recently died, and who was still remembered by many in our community chiefly because of a horrible deformity from which he suffered as a result of an encounter with a spirit treasure-guard. For years Yusuf’s lower jaw had been so twisted that his tongue touched his ear whenever he attempted to speak. Another unfortunate was Makhaul Asaad, who under similar circumstances was smitten with a perpetual hunger which made of him a howling beast. Other men suffered other punishments for their intrusion upon the domains of the mysterious powers.

In the second place, we had always known that the Turkish government prohibited secret digging for treasures, under severe penalty. Such operations could be safely carried on only after a government permit had been procured; but it was well-nigh impossible to obtain these permits, and moreover they stipulated (according to the popular and in all probability inaccurate understanding) that one third of the treasure should go to the finder or finders, one third to the owner of the land in which the treasure was found, and one third to the government. In Turkey, especially in the days of Abdul-Hamid, we were ruled not by laws but by men. What the past had taught us with regard to such cases was that, in administering the ‘law,’ the government usually took all that was found, and rewarded the digger by throwing him into prison on the charge that he must have found much more than he had made known to the officials. It was for the serious consideration of these and kindred, though less weighty, matters that we assembled at Abu-’Azar’s house on that memorable evening.

The company included Abu-’Azar, his wife, his daughter-in-law, his two sons, Jurjus² and Jubbur, Abu-Nezhim, and myself. After the Oriental fashion, we all sat on the floor, which was covered with straw mats, cushions, and sheepskins. The men formed a semicircle which terminated at either side of the maukedah, — fireplace, — sitting ‘knee upon knee.’ The women, who were not supposed to take a conspicuous part in the deliberations, sat at one side, behind us. The elder lady, like the ‘virtuous woman’ in the book of Proverbs, ‘ laid her hand to the spindle’ and spun thread; the younger lady was making an arkiah, the white muslin skull-cap, closely stitched, which is worn under the tarboosh, projecting slightly around the forehead, and is to the tarboosh what the cuff is to the sleeve. Those good women, however, were not altogether detached mentally from the subject in hand, for as we progressed in our serious deliberations they gave pious sighs and cast upward looks which signified a profound imploring of the higher powers.

Of course, profound secrecy was the first prerequisite, and to this all of us pledged ourselves without the slightest mental reservation. Abu-’Azar, being the oldest man among us, as well as the owner of the land, occupied the seat of honor. He was a man of dignified but stern appearance, reserved in speech, of a fiery temperament when crossed; and although of a stubborn will he was paradoxically capable of startlingly sudden mental changes. On this occasion, however, he was very tractable, even amiable, and spoke in a wise and happy manner.

Our first decision was that we would not notify the authorities of our intentions. The prize we were seeking seemed to us great enough to justify our running the risk of being ‘caught in the act,’ rather than expose ourselves voluntarily to Turkish injustice and cruelty. The affair was wholly our own. Furthermore, Abu-Nezhim and I realized instinctively that if the authorities were notified, and, in the event of our success, took one third of the treasure, and if Abu-’Azar took one third as the owner of the land, and then he, his wife, his sons, and his daughter-in-law took their shares, as ‘diggers,’ of what was left, our portions would be indeed very small. Consequently Abu-Nezliim and I were decidedly opposed to the ruinous legal method of procedure.

The mystery of the Russed next claimed our attention. It was barely possible that the treasure we were seeking was not ‘guarded.’ But what if it were? Which one of us was so foolhardy as to presume to run such an awful risk? In due time a great Mûghreby (magician) must be sought, to neutralize the mysterious power for us before we should venture to possess ourselves of the discovered gold. But such a necessity was as yet remote; much work must be done, and stronger evidences of the existence of the treasure secured, before the aid of a Mûghreby was absolutely needed. Russeds had often been known not to molest treasure-diggers until they presumed to carry the gold away. Some spirits had even been known to give warning, in rattlesnake fashion, thus affording intruders an opportunity to escape before the treasure was disturbed. One of our townsmen, who possessed a selfaugmenting memory, often told me of a treasure in a cave in the neighborhood of Mount Hermon, — a heap of silver coin, which no man could carry away because of the Russed which as yet no magician had been able to ‘neutralize.’ That man asserted that he himself visited the cave and handled the coin; but that when he tried to carry some of it away he could not find the door of the cave, and kept going round in a circle until he dropped the precious burden.

The immediate problem, then, was how to carry on the necessary operations of digging without being discovered. The enchanted spot was somewhat remote from the more populous section of the town, but the convent of St. Elias was only a short distance away, and several monks labored in its fields and vineyards daily from dawn till dusk. Just a little way below us there was a public fountain, to which all day an almost unbroken line of women came to fill their jars. Besides, there were our tenders, Ahmed and Husein, the Druses, who dug the hole for us, and whom we certainly did not wish to admit into our confidence. In such matters no Druse could be expected to keep the secret of a Christian, the ‘enemy of his faith.’

We met the first of these difficulties by deciding that, as it was well known to the entire community that we were building a house near the convent, the presence of laborers in the neighborhood would excite no suspicion. As to Ahmed and Husein, some way could easily be found to ‘lay them off’ for a day or two, and they lived in another town far away. How to dispose of the ancient coin and jewelry without being suspected of having found a treasure, did not at the time perplex us very seriously. In fact we were averse to even the slightest suggestion which tended to dampen our ardor and weaken our resolution.

Having thus disposed of our problems, we fell into poetic contemplation of the glorious future which loomed before us. The palaces we designed that night for our future dwelling places, the Arabian steeds, Persian hand-wrought arms, European carriages, and a multitude of other luxuries, formed the extensive programme of the millennial period which seemed about to dawn upon us; and our imaginings did full justice to the Oriental passion for idleness and luxury. True, some differences of taste were manifest among us with regard to our future environment and mode of living, but they were not serious enough to precipitate a quarrel.

But the most startling occurrence of that never-to-be-forgotten meeting took place shortly before it broke up. While we were designing our future palaces, Abu-’Azar seemed for a few minutes to fall into a state of deep contemplation. His face was illumined as with a new and significant vision, and his eyes moved dreamily from one to another of our faces. Presently, pushing his turbaned tarboosh back from his forehead, he startled us with the following tale: —

’Ya shebab’ (valiant young men), exclaimed Abu-’Azar, ‘hear, and I will speak to you! Many years ago, while on my way from Beyrout, I stopped to sustain my heart with a morsel of food at the inn of Ber-el-Wernar. While I was eating, my eyes fell upon a Mûghreby who sat near the door of the inn, wrapped in his dark striped cloak. So mysterious was he that he might have but just emerged from the cave of Daniel.³ Whenever I looked at him I saw his black piercing eyes fixed upon me, and I feared that he might bewitch me. But I named the Holy Name and thus strengthened my heart against him. Having done with my food, I lighted a cigarette and braved danger by going closer to the mysterious man. From his manner I perceived that he had somewhat to say to me, so I moved still closer to him and respectfully asked him, —

‘ “O Hajj, have you aught for me, and is it salaam and good fortune?”

‘Fastening his fire-striking eyes more intently upon me, the Mûghreby answered, —

‘ “Yes, wayfarer, I have somewhat to tell you, and it is salaam and good fortune, if you prove yourself cautious and deserving. You are a dweller of the mountain region; you own a parcel of land near a shrine. In one of the terrace walls of that parcel of land is a high rock chipped by a stone-cutter’s tool. If you would possess riches, measure forty cubits from that rock eastward and dig. I will say no more now; only that you must beware of the mysterious powers. Allah is the wise and bounteous giver.” ’

Abu-’Azar’s revelation thrilled our souls to the very centre.

‘And what did you do about it?’ was our eager question.

‘Nothing,’ said he. ‘That was shortly after the herekah ’ ⁴ (disturbance),

‘ when the blood was still hot and men’s minds were perplexed. Later, the rolling on of the years made me forget the matter.’

Angels! What clearer evidence did we require to prove to us that Abu’Azar’s parcel of ground contained a treasure?

The night being cloudy and dark, no measurements could be taken then; but we watched for the morning. On the morrow, at the earliest dawn, ‘before faces could be recognized,’ we were on the interesting spot. We found the ‘ high rock chipped by a stone-cutter’s tool,’ and measured from it ‘eastward’ forty cubits. The fortieth cubit spanned the mouth of the round hole! Our joy reached the point of consternation. Riches lay at our feet! Should we not proceed at once to uncover the treasure? But that would not be wise. Our helpers Ahmed and Husein would soon be with us, and if they once got wind of our intentions they would certainly betray us to the dread authorities. We would therefore possess our souls in patience through that day, follow our normal activities, and in the meantime find a suitable excuse to dispense with the services of the Druses for the morrow, when we would proceed with the digging, all by ourselves.

III

The day seemed endless and full of drudgery. To be toiling like slaves while riches lay at our feet was anything but pleasant; but we bore up under our secret with stoical fortitude. Aside from a few significant glances and winks which we shot at one another during the weary hours, we betrayed no signs which could awaken the suspicions of our alien fellow laborers. But what excuse could we find for telling them not to come on the morrow?

Here Abu-Nezhim, who was a church ‘ reader ’ and often assisted at the Mass, came to the rescue. His suggestion was that we tell Ahmed and Husein, who knew nothing about the Christian calendar, that the following day was a holy day on which we Christians were forbidden to work, and of which we had forgotten to speak to them earlier in the week. Furthermore, the following day being Friday, it would not be worth while for them to come on Saturday; therefore they need not report until the following Monday. The two Druses, fearing the loss of their job altogether if they should remonstrate, accepted the situation, with what inward dissatisfaction we did not know or care.

Threatening weather gave us an added sense of security from intruders on that Friday morning. As the early rays of the gray dawn began to stream over the heights of Lebanon, our party of seven, five men and two women, began the work of removing the stones which the workmen had thrown into the round hole two days before. Needless to say, our hands moved with such power and swiftness that in an incredibly short time all the stones were thrown out; and the digging was resumed with the greatest eagerness.

We had not gone deeper than a foot when there appeared at the west side of the opening the edge of a large slab of stone about five inches thick, standing upright, sealed around the edges with mortar and apparently covering the mouth of an horizontal excavation. When this stone was partly uncovered, I took the hammer and tapped it lightly three times. The strokes produced a hollow sound and a faint echo within. Our hearts beat violently, and our faces turned pale with excitement.

Abu-’Azar, who stood above at the mouth of the opening, with his wife and daughter-in-law, as sentinels, reverently lifted his turbaned tarboosh from his head, crossed himself, turned his face toward the shrine of St. Elias, and in most solemn accents vowed that if our efforts were crowned with success he would place over the image of the gray-bearded saint a jeweled crown of pure gold. The two women sealed the fervent vow by beating upon their breasts and saying imploringly, ’Yea, Amen!’ which was echoed with profound sincerity by each one of us.

St. Elias was accorded the first honor simply because he was the superhuman personage nearest to us geographically. The Virgin Mary, St. Antonio, whose shrine crowned the rocky summit overlooking the fertile valley in which the town nestled, and other saints who were deemed the mightiest helpers of men, were implored with most persuasive promises to take strong interest in our enterprise. I now realize that only a gold mine of the richest output could have paid all the vows we made on that occasion.

After we had dug to the depth of about three feet behind the stone slab, Abu-Nezhim swung his hammer and struck the stone several times at about the centre. It broke and fell in several pieces, revealing a large dark cave, lit only by the light, which streamed into it through the opening we had just made.

Instantly Abu-’Azar jumped into the hole, muttering what sounded like pious words. The women, forgetting for the moment the danger of such demonstrations, gave a scream. Jurjus and Jubbur gave vent to their pent-up feelings simultaneously with a characteristic Syrian expression in the Arabic language: ‘Igit wa Allah jabha! ’ which is, by literal interpretation, ‘It has come, and God has brought it’; and in more intelligible English, ‘Fortune has come, by the grace of God.’ Abu-Nezhim and I felt too full for utterance. And suddenly, without knowing how we got there, we two found ourselves squeezed together in the square opening on our way to the darkness within. No sooner did we get inside than our three comrades came in, elbowing one another, the sons (forgetting for the moment the proprieties of patriarchal family life) preceding their father. The women remained outside and hurled questions at us while they implored us to beware of the Russed.

Before us lay a cave about forty feet long and twenty-five feet wide. The soft chalk-rock ceiling had crumbled with the flight of the years, and had come down in heaps at various points. The huge fig tree growing in the soil above sent its roots through the seams in the rock to the cave below. But on the left as we entered, the rocky wall of the cave was of a more solid substance, and, as far as we could see, smooth as the palm of the hand.

The roughness of the interior of the cave and its vastness seemed for the moment to overwhelm us. Where were we to dig? What spot of the large interior held the treasure? What were we to do with the huge masses of crumbling rock? Abu-Nezhim and I were the hope of the party in dealing with weighty engineering problems, but the difficulties of our situation were practical, not technical. Time, labor, and the ability to remain hidden from the gaze of the outside world were the things most needful; but they would be difficult, if not impossible, to secure. For how could we hope to have the power to do the amount of work required? and how, supposing that we could do the work, were we to disguise such vast operations on the pretense that we were only building a house?

However, it was most natural for us to want to test certain spots, in the hope of at least, securing encouraging clews. So it was decided that we should proceed with the digging, very cautiously, close by the smooth rock, which seemed to us to be the sign left by those who buried the treasure, to guide them back to it.

The pickaxe and shovel brought to the surface pieces of mortar, pottery, and some ashes. Favorable signs, especially the mortar and pottery. Further digging multiplied those signs, but revealed no new ones. We worked until shortly past the noon hour, as we saw by the shadows of the trees and the convent walls, when we laid down our tools and sat together in a sheltered spot to eat our frugal lunch and take further counsel. After the short period of silence which always characterizes the beginning of a meal with a hungry company, desultory remarks began to fall from our lips.

‘ Mysterious! all is mysterious! ’ murmured Abu-’Azar, as in a trance. ‘I am convinced; there is a treasure under my fig tree, but we must be wise in seeking it. The help of magic must be sought. We need, first, to know positively the exact spot where the treasure is buried; and, second, the potion to break the spell of the Russed. I shall not allow any further digging without such means. Years ago the Mûghreby warned me against the “mysterious powers,” and I do not feel that the lives of my sons and your lives, masters, should be recklessly exposed to such awful danger, seeing that our wrestling is not with flesh and blood but with superhuman principalities and powers.’

After careful deliberation, therefore, it was decided that two of us should proceed at once to Beyrout to consult and seek the aid of El-Abdeh (colored woman), a Mohammedan witch whose powers were supposed to equal those of the ancient witch of En-dor whom Saul sought in his extremity. The fame of El-Abdeh filled the land from Aleppo to Beyrout and the regions of Judea. Great were the marvels she accomplished, from the finding of a lost bracelet to the unhinging of the most august human intellect. Of a truth she had the power of rendering any Russed harmless, inasmuch as she was a most intimate friend of Beelzebub. Associated with her was a Mûghreby, who was also deeply versed in the diabolical arts, and who, in joint counsel with the Abdeh, dealt with the men clients.

To Beyrout then, without delay! Meanwhile Abu-Nezhim and I decided that it was not at all safe to build the house over a cave, that the plans must be altered, and that word should be sent to our Druse laborers bidding them not to come to us until further notice.

(To be concluded.)