Hashish: A Smuggler's Tale (19 page)

In spite of the shallowness of the water at the point where we had left the
boutre
, we were still far from the coast. Long after the silhouette of the
boutre
had vanished behind us, the land had not yet come into sight. Suddenly, Ali Omar stopped paddling and pointed to a vague dark mass a hundred yards to our left. I had brought my night glasses with me, and I recognized the outline of a ship. Her mast had been removed, probably to allow her to hide more easily. I could see her lateen yard quite plainly jutting out over the stern. It was the boat we had seen that morning. I did not know why she was lurking there dismasted, but of one thing I was very sure, she was not engaged in fishing. At the distance at which we were, our
houri
, which was very low in the water, could not be seen. Silently we glided to the right and were soon swallowed up in the night. After half a mile of this ghost-like progress the keel of the
houri
grounded on the sand. We moored it to a paddle fixed upright in the sand, and advanced slowly through the shallow water, stepping delicately so as to make no noise.

Stinging skates, surprised in their sleep, began swimming through the cloudy water. At the risk of being wounded by their poisonous touch we went on, silent as before. The danger was that we might step on one of these flat fishes, half-buried in the sand, so Abdi insisted on going first to have the honour of brushing these dangerous sleepers out of our way. Indeed, in this way, only one of us risked being stung, and since Abdi wanted to be the one, Ali Omar and I gracefully conceded him the honour. At last we reached firm ground. I had not the faintest idea where we were, for the night was very dark in the shadow of those mountains which blotted out a good part of the sky. Underfoot was gravelly soil, strewn with sharp fragments of shells. Here and there round us were little, whitish dunes, and after that, darkness, silence and the unknown. Through my glasses I could make out other vague outlines of dunes, and it seemed to me that we were on a sandy plain, which was utterly deserted.

We eagerly investigated to see if the soil was suitable for the proposed burying of our goods. At every step we took forward, we felt the sand with our hands to discover its nature, and I had the disagreeable impression that though my hands touched gravel, my feet were gradually
sinking in as if there was mud underneath it. I made an effort to free myself, and sank farther in. The oozing mud was soon up to my knees, and I was still sinking. Luckily there was a dune very near, and I managed to reach it before my legs were completely imprisoned. There, the ground was solid. Abdi and Ali Omar had had the same experience. We had to retreat, for we were on shifting sands whose depths I did not know. We happened to find the traces of our footprints and followed them safely back to the sea. We had had the luck to land just where there was a strip of solid ground in the middle of a quagmire. If we had landed at another point, I don’t know how we should have come out of the adventure.

We had some trouble in finding the
pirogue
, owing to the darkness, and it was one o’clock in the morning when we got back on board. I still had time to hoist the sails and be out of sight before dawn, for I was most uneasy at the presence of the other ship, though I tried to find a normal explanation for it. By seven o’clock in the morning we had crossed the gulf and anchored on the Asiatic coast, three cables’ lengths from an absolutely deserted beach to the south of Ras Sudr. The fishing-boats had disappeared; they must have gone back to Suez before dawn, and I knew they would not return before midday.

The sand on the beach was firm and dry, and went up in a gentle slope towards a little rocky wall twenty yards from the sea. This was the boundary of a desert plain. At the foot of this little cliff, which was only about fourteen feet high, I dug a hole in which to put my eight cases. While the men were hollowing it out, I examined every inch of this plain through the telescope, right up to the chain of mountains away in the east. I left a man on guard on a small mound and came back to where the men were digging. During this time, the cabin-boy had amused himself by picking
bil-bils
off the rocks which emerged from the water, for the tide was out. These bivalves were exceptionally big, which led me to suppose that no one fished them here. Naturally, I opened some of them from idle curiosity, and to my great surprise found several small pearls embedded in the flesh. Probably it was not known in this country that these bivalves contained pearls. I made a mental note of this fact for future use; for the moment we were too busy arranging for the bringing of our goods to land to bother about anything else.

We could not get all these cumbersome cases into the
houri
, indeed, it could only take one at a time, which meant that the disembarking of the
hashish would take too long. But since they were zinc-lined, why should I bother putting the cases in a
pirogue
? Why not just throw them into the sea? They would float, and helped along by the sea breeze swimmers could easily push them towards the shore. In a few minutes my cargo was in the sea, and the crew, in the highest spirits, frolicked through the water, pushing the cases before them. When we were about to lower them into the hole prepared for them, I was surprised to smell the familiar odour of hashish, and I noticed, on examination, that the salt water which dripped from them was strongly impregnated with this odour.

In a flash I realized what had happened. What a disaster; the water had seeped into the cases! Perhaps they had been badly soldered, or more probably the heat at Djibouti had dilated the cold air which had been enclosed at Steno, thus opening the joinings. All my merchandise was perhaps spoilt, for I remembered that Petros had particularly warned me not to let the hashish get wet. There was no time to be lost; the most imminent danger was the spoiling of the hashish. We ripped open the cases, which now seemed too securely closed for our taste: we were in such a hurry to rend them apart. Only one was still all right; the other seven had let in water and all the little sacks were soaked. But the sun was already high in the heavens, and briskly dried the four hundred packets spread neatly out on the sand. It was quite an imposing display. I just thought of the thunderstruck joy of a company of coastguards, if they had happened to pass at this moment.

I had made up my mind once and for all, and would take the consequences, whatever they were. I would risk my life in this affair, and was determined not to be captured tamely. The sacks would take at least an hour to dry. If anyone happened to pass during this time and threatened to bother us, I would stop him, by ruse if I could, but by force if necessary, for I was very sincerely determined to see this business through, cost what it might. This decision taken, I immediately recovered all my serenity. I kept with me Abdi, Ali Omar and two Dankalis, with all the arms which were on board, and Mhamed Moussa returned to the
boutre
with the rest of the crew. He had orders to get ready to put to sea, and to run south before the wind, then to beat up northwards. I kept the
pirogue
with me to go and join him out at sea whenever our work was finished, if Fate allowed us to finish it. I sent away the
boutre
because I
did not want to attract attention to the point on the beach where we were. If any excisemen, or even innocent passers-by, were to come along the coast, they would naturally follow the little path which ran parallel to the shore on the top of the little cliff, some fifty yards back from where we were. If they saw a ship at anchor, they would naturally approach the edge of the cliff in order to hail it, or simply to get a nearer view, whereas if there was nothing on the sea or on the part of the beach visible from the path – for our merchandise, being right under the foot of the cliff, could not be seen from it – they would have no reason for going out of their way.

I dragged the
pirogue
up the beach and hid it under the cliff. Our sail had now disappeared, everything was calm in the limpid morning air, and as far as the eye could reach over the sandy plain, there was no sign of life. Out at sea, cargo boats passed by, indifferent to everything but the route they must follow. We carefully turned over all the sacks so that they could dry through and through. Ali Omar kept watch, lying on the top of the cliff. Suddenly he rose and glided towards us, wearing an anxious expression. My heart gave a horrid jump, as if I had been stabbed.

‘You have seen something?’ I asked.

‘Not on land, but over there a steamer which is not a cargo is coming down from Suez, keeping very close to the coast.’

From where I was, only the smoke from her funnel was visible. I climbed up the cliff, and sure enough I saw the yellow funnel of a little vessel with a single mast. I could not see the hull, but the funnel, clearly shown up by the sun, was obviously yellow, denoting a coastguard. They were certainly inspecting the coast, and would be sure to have powerful telescopes. I had the empty cases piled into the trench, and since I was afraid we should not have time to pack the sacks into them, I had the latter covered with a thin layer of sand. From a distance they would thus be invisible to anyone who did not know they were there. We ourselves crouched down in the space left in the trench, so that nothing remained to attract the eye to this spot.

The steamer approached, very rapidly now, and her white hull confirmed that she was a coastguard. I could even see the big searchlight on the top of the foresail, and her war flag on the gaff. She was following the coast less than a mile out. What a lucky inspiration I had had in
sending away my ship! Half an hour later, her presence would have compromised everything, hopelessly, too, for there would be no question of engaging battle with a warship. When she was just opposite us, I was afraid she was going to stop. I thought I could hear all our hearts hammering in our chests. But the white foam churned up by her stem rolled on, she passed… she was gone… she had seen nothing.

‘
Al amdul illah
,’ sighed my men.

I had passed an agonizing five minutes, but once the danger was past our luck seemed to me miraculous, yet at the same time quite natural. I felt as if I had never for a moment really believed that a catastrophe was possible. A sort of presentiment had assured me that all would go well. I remembered the case we had found floating on the sea. Why had Destiny sent it to me if my enterprise was not going to succeed? Fortunate optimism, thanks to which I could keep up my courage in trying moments. But this respite to our anxiety did not last long. I had my eyes fixed on our sail, away out at sea to the south. The coastguard had seen it too, and seemed to be making for it. Was she going to take it into her head to hail her? In that case, the absence of the captain and four of the crew would seem a little curious, if the ledger was looked at. What explanation would Mhamed Moussa give? Even if he said we had all died of cholera that would complicate the situation frightfully, and goodness knows what would be the end of it all. However, the gravest danger, and the most immediate, was past. We hastened to profit by this fact, and bury the accursed sacks, which were now dry. Rapidly we arranged them in their cases and at last the sand covered everything with its secret mantle. But as often happens when things are unpacked, we could not get them all in. Perhaps the merchandise had swollen a little. I had twelve little sacks over. I decided to keep them with me; they could act as samples, so that I could arrange the sale of all the hashish as soon as I arrived. They went into quite a small parcel, which could easily be disposed of in case of danger.

Meantime, the coastguard was nearing my
boutre
. Mhamed Moussa ran up the French flag, and I saw him lower it three times in the regulation salute. My blood ran cold. For sheer nerve, this would be hard to beat. How infinitely I should have preferred him to take his chance of passing without attracting special attention, as if the
Fat-el-Rahman
was just an ordinary Arab
boutre
. These French colours, this regulation salute, might intrigue the patroller, or it might be that those on board had
nothing to do and might seek amusement by visiting this courteous sailing-ship. But the patrol boat must have been in a hurry, for she contented herself with replying to the salute and keeping on her way south. I dropped my field-glasses, and we danced a wild war-dance of joy on the beach, finishing up with a general bathe, with acrobatic diving and wrestling. This relaxing was necessary after the nervous tension we had endured for nearly three-quarters of an hour. The
pirogue
seemed lighter than a wisp of straw in our joyful arms as we carried it down to the water, and driven by three paddles she fairly flew towards the
Fat-el-Rahman
. Mhamed Moussa said he had thought of saluting the coastguard when he had seen her change her course and come towards them. He remembered having seen me do the same thing with an English battle cruiser when we were gun-running!

With light hearts, strong in the innocence of our empty hold, we sailed gaily towards Suez. The sun was setting as we rounded the red lighthouse at Port Tewfik, a big construction in the very middle of the bay, bearing the keeper’s house and the great lantern. The roads were full of shipping, the red and green lights of beacons began to twinkle, and in the background the circle of shining points which indicated the town spread out along the horizon. It was very calm, as is the rule in the bay of Suez at night, and we lay there motionless under the red glare of the lighthouse.

This afternoon on our right, I had seen great stretches of sand on the coast of Asia, where it would be very simple to hide our compromising samples, for my men did not want to spoil the joy of entering this great unknown port by worrying about them. I readily agreed to hide them ashore for the time being, since the calm would keep us there anyhow until morning. Once we had gone through the customs we could easily go in the
pirogue
the following night and fetch them. I took Abdi and two Dankalis and went to carry out this last formality, while the
boutre
remained absolutely still, without even being anchored. Two hours later we were back Some distance from the sea I had come on a little hillock it would be easy to find again, as there was an old iron barrel half-buried on it. In this rusty old tub I had hidden the packets.