1939-11-17 — Page 16

SHORT STORY

THE CHINA MAIL, NOVEMBER 17, 1939

STRANGE REALITY By Barbara Cartland

MARY MARVEL stared out of the

window roughly made

and watched the moon rise slowly over which tops the rugged mountain completely encircled the tiny town of Rowanduz.

the barren It was spring and country of grey rocks and impene- trable peaks had been transformed by the April sunshine which had swept away the severity of a long winter.

Above the dark walls of the mighty chasms, there was still white snow to be seen silhouetted in the day cloudless time against a brilliant

sky; but flowers of every colour had burst forth among the grass and every inaccessible ledge at the side of a gorge had become vivid with scarlet tulips, blue irises, wild or- chids and purple violets.

A land of great beauty, had trans- formed now under the silver light of the moon into a land of mystery and romance.

But Mary's eyes held no delight, and her mouth, whose smiles had delighted millions of people all over the world, drooped at the corners.

the

This country, the like of which filled she had never seen before, her with strange longings and with unappeased desires. She had wanted so much to come here. In fact, she had insisted. In Hollywood they had tried to dissuade her. It would be possible to 'shoot'

picture and ac- without the main actors

but studios, tresses leaving the

with Mary, who usually agreed whatever was arranged for her, sur- prised the company, her manager and her fellow actors by refusing the usual procedure.

"It is a great scenario," she said, "and it will be a great film. I will do it properly or not at all."

That she got her own way was inevitable. Mary Marvel was Holly- wood's newest find and was already looked upon as a goldmine from the box office point of view.

Her enemies and critics, of course, . said that this was મૈં clever press stunt.

Kurdistan was a strange, practi- cally unknown country from the tourist's point of view. That the the of most glamorous film star moment should choose to bury her- self there for two or perhaps three months, whilst the picture was be- ing made, was ridiculous, unless she had some ulterior motive—such a gigantic publicity stunt.

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But Mary Marvel had all the pub- licity she wanted and a great deal more, and her reasons for insisting that she, personally, should be taken to the mountains of Kurdistan were personal and secret ones which she revealed to no one.

None of her so-called friends or any of those closely associated with her in the unreal world of Holly- wood were aware that under the glamorous, radiant outward appear- ance of Mary Marvel lived an ideal- ist and a dreamer.

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The real Mary, whose name had once been Hodgekins and who had been brought up in the wilds of little Yorkshire village, was as un- known to Hollywood as Hollywood was to Kurdistan.

No one would have believed her had she told them that what that real Mary wanted more than any- thing in the world was "to live"; to know life as it really was; to come near to the truth and face to face with reality! She was surrounded by a life of illusion, and felt that she too was becoming as unreal, as shal- low and shadowy,

her as

back- ground. How could she help it? She must give the public what they wanted and what they desired. Yet somehow this trip-which was to

· make a film of the building of the road from Damascus to Teheran, the great road which had opened up Turkey and Persia to the West and joined the Mediterranean to the Caspian Sea-seemed to Mary to open a way also for her into a new life of which she knew nothing.

But she was disappointed. When

eventually they had arrived over the mountain passes to Rowanduz, she had felt that here at last was some- thrilling. something thing new,

in the Surely the strangest town world. Rowanduz was built on a flat platform of rock lying between two old mighty chasms. There was the caravan track leading through the bazaar, the river winding like snake below the town, and above it loomed a massive fort built by Kor Pasha, the blind ruler of Kurdistan over a century ago:

But after a month of living primi- tively in the crude and simple build- ings of the town, of working in the brilliant, blinding sunlight, of ris- ing when the mists still hid the peaks of the mountains and of retiring to bed long before the bazaar lights were extinguished or the chatter of Kurdish voices ceased, Mary knew to Kurdistan but she had come brought the chains of Hollywood with her. Her life was much the same. There were the same insincere gushingly affectionate people around her, the same studio quarrels, the same temperamental differences be-

The tween the actors.

producer would curse, the camera men grum- come the make-up ble,

women

tasks. morning yawning to their Nothing was changed, nothing al- tered. Mary had travelled thousands of miles for nothing.

Besides the monotony, even her few leisure moments were restrict- ed. The company had been warn- ed by a representative of Iraq Gov- ernment that there was social un- rest and that no women should be they allowed out unaccompanied:

for added that it was inadvisable

far any of the party to stray too from the town.

The company had not long to wait before an explanation of these in- structions was forthcoming, for ́in Rowanduz no one talked of anything else save the rising of Yucu Kirkuk.

Ever since the termination of the British mandate in Kurdistan, there had been dissatisfaction amongst the Assyrians who form a small but im- portant part of the population.

The Assyrians had fought bravely for the Allies in the Great War. They

in had left their homes the wild Hakkiari mountains and had fought their way to the side of the Russian Army, doing much to weaken the Turkish resistance in Mesopotamia.

After the war was over, the Arabs were awarded by a kingdom, while the Kurds were freed from oppres- sion and were at peace for the first time for centuries,

Only the Assyrians were left un- found rewarded; and, disbanded, themselves a nation without a coun- try.

With great tradition behind them, with a history so steeped into the midst of antiquity that it has never yet been revealed or written, it was inevitable that sooner or later there should come in time a leader and a saviour.

Yucu Kirkuk came from one of the great patrician families. There him: were many tales told about some too fantastic to be credible, others wild and adventurous enough to thrill the minds and swell the hearts of the simple peasants.

Mary heard of his great height, of he his powerful physique, which loved to display by long journeys on horseback and by difficult feats of mountain climbing. .

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He rode magnificently, and as a hunter of leopard, bear and ibex ho was famous. Always he was mount- ed on a great black stallion, and strangely too, came the news that his mother had been English.

The Assyrians are Christians, but even so-fired by his personality—— worshipping his heroism almost fanatically Mohammedans and

Jews were flocking under his bane ner, and soon he would be ready to fight for the rights of his people and for the return of the country that they had once owned.

There was no doubt that the Glow ernment of Iraq was disturbed and

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at a loss what to do. Yucu had spent all his life in the mountains, and regiments of men could hide in the great caves which unexplored and uncharted undermine the hills and which are known to have been the treasure vaults of ancient kings.

Yucu was preparing, and in the meanwhile he had reverted to the old tradition of banditry. Caravans were stopped and looted, motor cars were held up even on the famous road itself.

In Baghdad anxious officials held meetings and summoned each other by telephone, and, in the meantine Yucu's men disappeared into the shadows of the mountain side, no one knew whither. until they re- appeared.

It was a tale to thrill even the for most apathetic listener, and Mary there was the knowledge that this strange band, this army in the making, were only a few miles away from her at this moment.

Perhaps sometimes in the dark- ness of the night they came down to need food Rowanduz--they must

and wine and she knew from what she had heard, even from the little she had understood, that there was much sympathy for Yucu in the ba- zaar.

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her, she could hear their 'hoofs and occasionally the low tones of men's voices. But she could not move or make any sound save a stiffed mur- mur. They had galloped at first for a very little way, and then they had climbed, the horses moving slowly but surely as if the road they trod was a familiar one.

She was cramped and her limbs were numb, so that she would have fallen had not strong arms still sup- ported her and led her forward un- til, with a sudden unexpected move- ment, the cloth which covered her head was taken away and she was free. For a moment she could not see. Her eyes were dazzled by the light of several lamps hanging from a low ceiling. Then she realised she was in a huge room hung with car- pets and having as its only furniture She a low cushion-covered divan. turned swiftly to face her captors, but she was too late to see They had gone, and only a carpet swinging slightly showed their exit.

them.

Instinctively Mary patted her hair into place, moving her arms slowly to restore the circulation. She was been warm, for luckily she had wearing her fur cloak which now fell back from her shoulders to re- veal her simple dinner white lace. Her heart was There were

and her mouth was dry. many Assyrians in Rowanduz, and the Kurdish women would help him secretly, even if they dared not do so openly.

She opened her casement window a little wider. The night air was clear and cold with a touch of ice in it, and she pulled a soft fur cloak over her shoulders and wrapped it round her. The mellow candle light behind her silhouetted her fair hair so that it shone like a halo framing eyes. her oval face and deep blue "An English rose" they called her, and yet, to-night, something wild in her blood filled her with desires which were certainly not conven- tional English ones. There was a throb of Oriental music in the far distance, and then

she was startled by the cry of a child! It came from below her window, and in the dark shadows of the street below, she could see a small boy holding out his hands to her, and wailing for help in tones which are eloquent in any language.

Without a second thought, with- out waiting to tell one of her fellow actresses who slept next door where she was going, Mary sped down the narrow' wooden staircase, and pull-

outside ing open the huge

door, stepped into the roadway.

She went towards the child, who --when he saw her-rose to his feet and seizing her by the hand pulled her away from the house along the The street down a side turning. boy was still crying, but talking all the time in Kurdish. Mary could not understand, but, at the same time. allowed herself to be led onwards, wondering what was wrong, trying in soothing tones to calm the child- ish agitation.

Once away from the lighted win- dows of the house, they stepped into almost impenetrable darkness. The moon was not yet high enough to pierce the shadows' of streets barely six feet across, and then suddenly, as she groped her way, the warm convulsive clasp of the little hand She which pulled her loosened, heard the boy speak in a more nor- mal tone, dropping his whining cry, to and then before she could see whom he spoke or even realise he had left her, she felt a cloth thrown over her head and her arms seized by strong hands.

She tried to struggle, but it was impossible. She was awung off her feet and carried-her cries stifled,.

and she her struggles ineffectual,

was only aware that for the first time in her life she was desperate- ly afraid.

Hours later, it seemed to Mary, she felt her feet on the ground again. She had been carried in the arms of- a man across the saddle of a Horse. other. She knew that there were horses moving beside and behind

of dress

beating At the

same time, she felt her courage re- turning. She had been physically afraid: now that she was unharmed and unhurt her fears were not so desperate.

As she waited wondering what to do, anticipating what the next min- utes would bring forth, one of the wall hangings was drawn aside and a man entered.

Even as she turned to face him Mary was tingling aware who he was, but even so the first thing she noticed and which came to her with the suddenness of a shock was that *his eyes were as blue as her own.

Yucu Kirkuk stood silently look- great ing down at her from his

in riding height. He was dressed clothes of western cut, and only the heavy revolvers in a swathed waist band and the shallow conical cap of thick felt-which is typically Assy- rian-made him different from any conventional stranger Mary might have met in England or America.

His skin was tanned by the sun and from exposure to a deep bronze, and his blue eyes were so startling in contrast that Mary felt it was easy to understand how, even apart from his mission and from his per- sonality, the ignorant people would regard him with superstitious awe and with what was almost rever- ence.

"

They stood staring at each other, and then at last Mary broke the si- lence-unable for some reason which she could not explain to herself to

(Continued on Page 17)

PLEASE, MOTHER- I WANT POWDER THAT'S ANTISEPTIC

MENNEN

BORATED POWDER -

SAPBIS

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