Evening Star Newspaper, January 18, 1931, Page 88

S — THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, JANUARY 18 1931. A Strange Adventure in a “Haunted” Cavern The Arab Who Brood- ed Over the Defeat of His People and His Desire for Re- venge—A Weird Attack From Which Escape Seemed Impossible e G French Captain Tells His Story. BY CAPT. ARMAND BRIGAUD. EDITOR'S NOTE: This en- thralling account of the terrifying experience of a captain in the French army illustrates the length to which desire for revenge drove an Arab who had brooded for years over the defeat and slaying of a number of his countrymen by the French. Also it shows the courage of the officer and the loyalty of the native who rescued him. HE experience I am about to relate jarred on my nerves in the Fall of 1916, during the World War. was at that time ailing on account of an unhealed wound, and being temporarily unfit for field duty, I was en- gaged in drilling native recruits. My battalion commander sent me to take charge of a couple of hundred young natives who had been called to the colors and were assembling near the village of Rabelais, which is located about 100 miles south of Algiers. The village of Rabelais was built a score of years ago by French immigrant farmers. The surrounding country is a semi-wilderness in- habited by a shifting Arabian population. How- ever, it is now a tame, perfectly safe territory. But I knew something about that part of Al- geria which intrigued me uncommonly. In the year 1845, the bloody year of the conquest of ia, my grandfather was a young lieutenant of the 53rd Line Regiment, which was com- manded by Col. Saint-Arnaud. . The Prench soldiers of King Leuis Philippe were at that time tearing down the stubborn of the Arabian tribes. Dressed in stiff-collared tunics and heavy shakos, armed with breech-loading guns, their undertaking was a feat that men of our effete age could never accomplish. And their temper was not %t its best, for the Arabs were given to a practice which is now followed only by desert Beduins. They tortured their prisoners to death with a cruel skill which in more modern times was rivaled omnly by the American In- dians and by the people of Indo-China. miles south of the place where the of Rabelais is now located, a stream the Arabs “Chabet el Bir,” had carved turies a winding cave into the This was the Cave of Dirha, past about 500 tribesmen of the hid at the news that Saint-Ar- troops were approaching. Saint-Arnaud from his scouts of this fact. He de- tested the Sbehas because they had often am- bushed, seized and tortured isolated parties of his men. He decided to surround the Cave of Dirha and capture those who were hiding HHRIE It was the middle of August and the Chabet ol Bir was dry. The cave had two entrances, distant from each other about a hundred yards. But when the soldiers appeared in front of SAXNT-ARNAUD was a hard man. He thought that, after all, these Arabs were murderous brigands, and he ordered the regi- mental sappers to fill one of the entrances with gravel and rocks. Then he had loads of wood and dry grass stuffed into the other entrance. ‘The soldiers applied a blazing torch. When the section of the cave in front of them became filled with flames and smoke they piled loose earth and stones on that second entrance, too. For an hour the companies stood with ready guns in front of the two blocked passages, ready to seize the Sbehas if they should succeed in breaking through the obstruction and to shoot them down if they still showed fight. But evi- dently the flames had consumed quickly what- ever oxygen was in Dirha’s grotto and the monoxide gas developed by the smoke had » ssphyxiated the Sbehas. The two piles of earth and logse stones piled in front of both passages remained untroubled. At length Saint-Arnaud retired with his troops %0 the hills of Ain-Meran, where, while the (S WETS BEL ST T T K | soldiers cooked their evening meal, he wrote a letter to his brother, who lived in Paris. “Those brigands are as well dead,” he wrote, speaking of the Sbehas whom he had buried alive. “Each of them, living, was a menace to our soldiers and a potential murderer. I think that I did the right thing in suppressing them. But, just the same, this happening has dis- gusted me with Africa.” I had heard my grandfather speak time and again of the grottos of Dirha, and now, being in the neighborhood, I decided to visit the scene of the wholesale execution. Although I did not approve of what Saint-Arnaud had done—even as my grandfather had not approved of it—the very mention of Dirha had always held for me a kind of morbid fascination. But when I went for precise information to the functionary who ruled Rabelais I found that either he knew nothing of the fact or he wished not to speak of it. “The stream Chabet el Bir is three miles south of our village, but I have not heard of caves nearby,” he said, with a shrug of his plump shoulders. He offered me a cigarette and century, but tribesmen of that people are still numerous around Rabelais. Therefore, I went to a kind of headman, a gray-bearded Arab with the eyes of a primitive philosopher, and Dirha. seen what Saint-Arnaud had done, came down and grouped around the cave's entrances. One of them said: “‘“They will be dead by now. Let us not dis- turb the dead.’ “But there was among them a certain Yusuf Zerif, who had much loved a woman who had been buried among the others,” the old Arab continued. “°‘I have loved that woman so much that I will go crazy if I cannot press her life- less form to my breast,’ Yusuf said. ‘If I can- not have her alive, I will have her dead.”” ‘The old tribesman paused musingly for a while, then smiled subtly. “So, Allah willing,” my ancient informer con- tinued, “they removed the earth and stones. When the pure air entered the cave they went within. Inshallah, sidi! The dead were piled on each other and streamed like a little of human straw from one end of the cave to the other—able-bodied warriors, old men, women and children. Only a few were carried from the cave still alive.” 1 easily found a Sbeha guide. Every one of his tribe knew where the Cave of Dirha was located. The day after, when my recruits were through drilling, I rode toward Dirha with my orderly and the guide. d E reached the caves around sundown. The cave proper was under a forlorn hillock, which arose between an arid valley called Oued el Azudy and the ravine which had been carved by the torrential waters of the Chabet el Bir, which at that time of the year was a thin rivulet of sluggish water. At the en- trance of the cave both the guide and Menhed, my orderly, stopped, salaamed, and said in unmistakable terms that they would go no farther. “Because the cave is haunted by evil spirits, 8idi'"™ they asserted solemnly. - Manhed was a veteran who wore too well Lut g versl yae sl 2dite deserved decorations on his wide breast. The Sbeha tribesman had the unmistakable ap- pearance of a man who could prove, when aroused, a tough customer. But, knowing Arabs, I realized that no power on earth could induce them to enter a supposedly haunted cave. Therefore I pressed the button of my flashlight and entered alone. Instantly a feeling of uncanny depression seized me. How- ever, I pulled myself together and went on. The winding cave was by no means uni- formly wide. In some points it was several yards high and almost 10 yards wide; in others it narrowed so much that to proceed I was obliged to stoop, and my shoulders brushed against the sides of the rough corridor. There were also many obscure nooks and corners and brief corridors ending against a wall of rocks. Of course, my exploration was a very super- ficial one; it would have taken a couple of days to explore properly that maze of muddy caverns and confused passages. I emerged through the opposite passage, where I found Menhed and the Sbeha waiting for me. “As you may easily see, in that cave there is nothing that can harm any one,” I observed. “The evil spirits exist only in your imag- ination.” “With the wish of Allah you were allowed to escape,” the Sheba remarked gravely. “And yet one cannot say. You visited the cave early, when the spirits are sleeping. Had you been here during the night, things would have gone differently.” “Rot!” I snapped, shrugging my shoulders. “If it would be my fancy, I would sieep for a night within the caves without any other harm than a cold!” “You say that you would, but I know that you will not,” the Sbeha sneered. “You would not dare to.” His insolence enraged me so that I lifted my cravache, ready to strike him. Then I realized that he meant not to offend me. In his Arabian mind there was no shame in being afraid of ghosts; surely the Sbeha could not see anything offensive in making me acknowledge that I dared not face Dirha’s spirits. I lowered the whip and was about to leap in the saddie of the horse that Menhed held ready for me, when I noticed that my orderly was gazing at me dubiously. I knew what that meant. As a true Arab, Menhed would repeat among the other soldiers that I had said I was willing to challenge Dirha's supernatural dangers—but that I had not gone through with my boast. He would retail that with true Arabian gossipy spirit, pointing out that I was a brave man in war, but that I feared the same things that they feared. And I knew what the other soldiers would answer to that: “After all, he is just a man, and he did the right thing in the eyes of Allah.” And from that moment they would perhaps like me more, but would obey me much less eagerly, because the Arab does not follow the one whom he likes, but the one whom he fears. In a word, my prestige would be destroyed. “Tonight we will bivouac here. And I will sleep in the cavern,” I announced. The Sheha argued fervently against this, tried to dissaude me from doing so. But Menhed said nothing. There was a proud smile on his face, as if to say: “Here is a man who fears not ghosts, and he is my chieftain!” He evi- dently basked in what he considered the re- flected glory of a leader willng to do things that the bravest among Arabs would not dare do. Illmeverymiddleo(menmmhuer group of caverns ran the thin stream of the Chabet el Bir. Spurred by my example, Men- hed built a litter of green branches and grass ceaand 11 war ¢ 17 teans at a corner of a good-sized cave, and a large near by. Then while I settled for the night retreated hastily, glancing fearfully around comfortable warmth. I laid my head on my cloak, which had been rolled into an impro- vised pillow, and instantly fell asleep. I do not know how long I had been sleeping, but of a sudden, a dream agitated me. I felt that a menacing presence was near me. Suddenly I awakened. The fire still burned and from the blazing branches piled on top of it arose thick wafts of a white, smoky substance, which smelled like a powerful drug. I felt strangely torpid, almost spent. Something moved in one of the shadowy corners of the cave. Partly con- quering, by a desperate effort, the drowsiness that benumbed my limbs, I propped myself in a sitting position. I dimly saw a long white shape dart crouching from one nook to an- other. Then the pungent smell coming from the fire enveloped me. Strange to say, I felt keenly that something was me, but, instead of being wor- ried, I felt curiously exhilarated. Although my limbs were heavy and growing almost sense- less by the second, all my mental faculties seemed relieved of every human care. - I thought of Menhed's and the Sbeha's sug- gestions that the cave was haunted.” Perhaps it was, but that made no difference. I found myself waiting for a ghostly manifestation; I wanted to keep in touch with the beyond and enjoy its vagaries, whatever they could be. I realized that my ideas were not those of a sane man; I was going insane, perhaps, but I did not care. My eyes were growing glased and all the sensations of drunkenness were taking hold of me. Then, from that' nook where it had disappeared, the eerie wraith seemed to emerge and advance toward me. I saw & pair of glaring eyes staring ferociously at me; a curved, beaklike nose, a shaggy gray beard.. It was an Arab, and he came stealthily like a great cat, gripping a long knife in his right hand. riddle of crazed ideas racking my brain. tried to grasp the automatic that I had placed under the cloak pillow before retiring. I suc- ceeded in doing so, but, drugged as I was, I lost my balance and fell on my side. Without knowing what I was doing, I pressed the trigger and fired a round; then, nauseated and. faint, I let the gun fall among the loose grass of my couch. For a few moments following the the report and the echoes it had a heard no other sound. Then the shuffling of an approaching footstep echoed in the silence of the cave. My reasoning power been blotted out, but the instinct rooted in by years of experience as an Af was only slumbering and came to my nervous fingers were unable to trace which had sunk into the grass, t. desperate effort I shook my head and aged to stumble on all fours. N With knife lifted high to strike, Arab had approached within my had moved slowly because he wanted to. avoid the noise of his steps that would R gk : bl ‘ % B ; : S HH