The Animal-Lover's Book of Beastly Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

laughed when they saw Mahmet doing it.
    Mahmet sold his loot before noon for seventy dinars (the camera was a good German one) which made him feel slightly better. With his own cache of dinars which he carried with him, sewn into a fold of blanket, Mahmet now had nearly five hundred. He could buy another camel of sorts, not as good as Djemal who had cost him four hundred dinars. And he would have enough to put something down on the house he wanted. The tourist season was on, and Mahmet needed a camel to earn money, because camel driving was the only thing he knew.
    Meanwhile, Djemal had fallen into good hands. A poor but decent man called Chak had bought him to add to his string of three. Chak mainly hauled lemons and oranges and did other kinds of transport work with his camels, but in the tourist season, he gave camel rides too. Chak was delighted with Djemal’s grace and willingness with the tourists. Because Djemal was so tall, he was often preferred by the tourists who wanted “a view.”
    Djemal was now quite healed of his sore shoulder, well fed, not overworked, and very content with his new master and his life. His memory of Mahmet was growing dimmer, because he never encountered him for one thing. Elu-Bana had many routes in and out of it. Djemal often worked miles away, and Chak’s home was a few miles outside of town; there Djemal slept with the other camels under a shelter near the house where Chak lived with his family.
    One day in early autumn, when the weather was a trifle cooler and most of the tourists had gone, Djemal picked up the scent of Mahmet. Djemal was just then entering the big fruit market in Elu-Bana, carrying a heavy load of grapefruit. Huge trucks were being loaded with boxes of dates and pineapples, and the scene was noisy with men talking and yelling and transistors everywhere blaring different programs. Djemal didn’t see Mahmet, but the hair on his neck rose a little, and he expected a blow out of nowhere. He knelt at Chak’s command, and the burdens slipped from his sides.
    Then he saw Mahmet just a camel’s length in front of him. Djemal got to his feet. Mahmet saw Djemal also, took a second or two to make sure he was Djemal, then Mahmet jumped and stepped back. He pushed some paper dinars into his djellaba somewhere.
    “So—your old camel, eh?” another camel driver said to Mahmet, jerking a thumb towards Djemal. “Still afraid of him, Mahmet?”
    “I never was afraid of him!” Mahmet came back.
    “Ha-ha!”
    A couple of other drivers joined the conversation.
    Djemal saw Mahmet twitch, shrug his shoulders, talking all the while. Djemal could smell him well, and his hatred rose afresh. Djemal moved towards Mahmet.
    “Ha! Ha! Watch out, Mahmet!” laughed a turbaned driver, who was a little drunk on wine.
    Mahmet retreated.
    Djemal followed, walking. He continued to walk, even though he heard Chak calling him. Then Djemal broke into a lope, as Mahmet vanished behind a truck. When Djemal reached the truck, Mahmet darted towards a small house, a shed of some kind for the market drivers.
    To Mahmet’s horror, the shed door was locked. He ran behind the shed.
    Djemal bore down and seized Mahmet’s djellaba and part of his spine in his teeth. Mahmet fell, and Djemal stomped him, stomped him again on the head.
    “Look! It’s a fight!”
    “The old bastard deserves it!” cried someone.
    A dozen men, then twenty gathered around to watch, laughing, at first urging one another to go in and put a stop to it—but nobody did. On the contrary, someone passed a jug of red wine around.
    Mahmet screamed. Djemal now came down with a foot in the middle of Mahmet’s back. Then it was over really. Mahmet stopped moving, anyway. Djemal, just getting his strength up for the task, bit through the exposed calf of Mahmet’s left leg.
    The crowd howled. They were safe, the camel wasn’t going to attack them , and to a man they detested Mahmet, who was not only stingy but downright dishonest,