The Horses of the Sahara 33

The Horses of the Sahara 33

She is worth five hundred she-camels

Followed by their little ones,

Besides a hundred negroes of the Soudan,

Stolen by the Touarueg[80]

To serve Mahommedans.

 

She is worth all the wandering Arabs,

Happy and independent,

And those with fixed abodes,

Unhappy victims

Of the caprice of Sultans.

 

Her head is adorned with pure silk,

Whence escapes in flowing curls

Her black hair perfumed with musk,

Or with amber from Tunis;

Her teeth, you would say they were pearls

Set in the reddest coral,

And her eyes, charged with blood,

Wound like the arrows

Of the savage inhabitants of Bernou.[81]

 

Her saliva, I have tasted it,

Is the sugar of dried grapes,

Or the honey of bees

In the flower of spring time.

Her neck is the mast of a ship

That ploughs the deep seas,

With its white sails

To float along with the wind.

 

Her throat resembles the peach

Which is seen ripening on the tree;

Her shoulders are like polished ivory,

And her rounded ribs

Are the haughty sabres

Drawn by the Djouad[82]

When weary of using their fire-arms.

How many valiant horsemen

Have died for her in battle!

 

Oh! would that I possessed

The best horse of the desert,

 

To ride pensive and alone

By the side of her white she-camel!

That horse would fill with rage

The young men of the Sahara.

 

I hunt, I pray, I fast,

And follow the laws of the Prophet:

But, were I forced to go to Mecca,

Never would I forget Meryem.

Yes, Meryem, with thy black lashes

Thou wilt always be beautiful,

And as delightful as a gift.

 

At the end of a few hours the heat becomes unpleasant, and a halt is

called. The tents are pitched, breakfast is prepared, and the horses are

unbridled and allowed to graze—and all rest themselves. As the sun goes

down, the heat diminishes—it is now between two and three in the

afternoon. To your saddles and forward, ye daring cavaliers! Display in

a brilliant fantasia the worth of your horses and of yourselves. The

women behold you; show them what you can do with a horse and a gun. Ah!

more than one of you shall be rewarded for his prowess. Do you see that

negro? He is bearing to one of you the recompense of his skill in

managing his arms and his steed. He is the messenger to whose care one

of the lovely spectators has confided the secret of her love, in

charging him to deliver to the hero of the fantasia her _khrolkhral_, or

anklets, or her _mekhranga_, or necklace of cloves.

 

It is not enough, however, to be a brave and skilful horseman—it is

incumbent on thee, also, to be discreet. Thou hast a friend; to-morrow

thou wilt give him thy horse and thy garments. Urge him strongly, for

thy sister[83] wishes it, to show himself in the midst of the _goum_

upon thy steed and in thy dress, so as to deceive the other horsemen.

In the mean time thou wilt pass unperceived as a humble foot-soldier,

and wilt walk beside the camel that bears thy mistress. Attention! watch

the favourable moment, and slip into her palanquin. She is just as

impatient as thyself, and stretches her hand to thee. Profit by this

assistance, and let thy movements outstrip suspicion.

 

In love, as in war, fortune favours the bold, but they have likewise the

largest share of perils. If such meetings are frequent and nearly always

successful, there is nevertheless risk to life; for, if the lovers are

ever surprised, both of them perish without mercy. But who is there to

betray them? All who surround them are in their favour. The lover tells

his good fortune to his friends, all of whom are anxious to forward his

happiness, and ten or a dozen _douros_ have been sent to his mistress.

Nor is this all. Her confidential servant has received two or three

_douros_, and money has been freely distributed among her slaves and

attendants. All, therefore, keep a good watch, and give timely notice to

the lover when he must glide out of the litter, in the midst of the

disorder and confusion caused by the pitching of the camp at the

approach of night.

 

Previous to sunset, the chiefs reconnoitre a spot suitable for an

encampment. It must be supplied with water, grass, and shrubs for

fire-wood. On arriving at the place selected, each tent is pitched, the

horses are unbridled and hobbled, as are also the camels, the negroes go

in search of wood and grass, the women prepare the food, and they all

sup. A thousand little scenes impart to a camp of this kind an aspect

full of charm and novelty. Then total darkness envelopes the scene,

unless there happens to be moonlight. The fires are extinguished—there

is nothing alight to diminish the darkness. In the Sahara, oil and wax

are alike unknown. Immediately after supper, each tent selects a man to

watch the animals and the baggage. It is his business to prevent thefts,

which his most active vigilance is, nevertheless, powerless to avert.

 

Not robbers alone wait for the night. Protected by the same obscurity,

the lover, with the privity of his mistress, cautiously approaches the

tent in which she reposes, raises the canvass, and guided by a devoted

slave, takes the place of the husband who, fatigued by the day's

journey, is sleeping in the men's chamber,—for in the tents of the

desert there are always two distinct compartments, one for men, the

other for women. Besides, it is deemed disgraceful for a man to pass the

whole night by the side of his wife. There is nothing therefore, to

interfere with these clandestine meetings. The presence of the two or

three other wives permitted by the Mussulman law would certainly not be

considered an obstacle. According, to an Arab proverb, only a Jewess

surpasses Shitan in trickery, but next to Shitan comes the Mussulmanee.

It is a thing unheard of in the desert that women should denounce one

another. But if, perchance, the adventure should seem too hazardous, the

woman issues from the tent when every one is asleep, and proceeds to a

spot she has indicated to her lover by means of one of the usual

intermediary agents, the negroes and shepherds.

 

At the very hour that happy lovers meet, are accomplished schemes of

vengeance. A rejected lover penetrates into the tent of the woman who

has treated him with scorn, goes up to her, and shoots her with a

pistol. At the sound of the explosion, the other women jump up, run

against one another, and utter shrieks. The murderer, however, has had

time to disappear, and the crime, perpetrated unseen, nearly always

remains unpunished. Love adventures are common in the Sahara. Willingly

or unwillingly, an Arab woman is sure to have lovers. The jealous

precautions of the husbands excite and foment to an unnatural degree the

libertine propensities of the women, by the very restraints that are

placed upon them. To whatever class they belong, they pass their time in

inventing stratagems to deceive their husbands while they are young,

and, when they are old, to facilitate the amours of others.

 

The night is over; the sky is covered with a golden light; it is time to

depart. The chiefs now send forward scouts to reconnoitre the enemy's

position, and to form an opinion, from external signs, of his moral

condition, and of the reinforcements he has received. The scouts advance

very cautiously, and, when they are nearing the hostile camp, travel

only at night. One of them is then detached on foot, who takes advantage

of every irregularity of the ground to avoid being noticed, and

oftentimes, disguised in rags, penetrates boldly into the midst of the

_douars_. There he makes himself acquainted with the number of

foot-soldiers, horses, and tents; observes whether they are laughing and

amusing themselves, or if sadness reigns in the camp; and then returns

to communicate the result of his investigations. The scouts remain all

night in a concealed spot, impatient to discover what will be the

attitude of the enemy at sunrise. If he executes the fantasia and

discharges his fire-arms,—if shouts of joy are heard, and singing, and

the sound of the flute,—it is certain that he has received

reinforcements, and troubles himself very little about the approaching

attack.

 

The tribe continues its march until it is not above nine or ten leagues

from the enemy. The advance has been made by short stages. The baggage,

the women, the foot-soldiers, are so many causes of delay; but what has

chiefly retarded the advance are the orders of the chiefs, who are

desirous to afford time for reflection to those they proposed to

chastise. It was acting prudently, and they were influenced by powerful

motives. Who knew but that terms of peace might be asked for,

accompanied by many presents for themselves, the leading councillors?

Examples were not wanting to that effect—indeed, it was the usual

custom. For them would be the cotton stuffs, the garments of cloth, the

guns mounted in silver, the anklets, and the _douros_! When an affair