The Horses of the Sahara 34

The Horses of the Sahara 34

The marabouts accept these conditions, and guarantee their fulfilment.

The sacred book of Sidi Abd-Allah is then produced, and the chiefs swear

to make peace. After the oath has been taken, they who have come to

prevent the shedding of blood return to their tribe, to give an account

of what has been decided, and compel them to execute the terms which

they have just guaranteed. On the morrow the tribe that has accorded

peace continues its march, and encamps within a league of the enemy. It

is barely installed, when the marabouts and chiefs of the opposite party

arrive with the ratification that was stipulated. The leading men of the

two rival camps meet together, and again swear on the book of Sidi

Abd-Allah:—"By the truth of Sidi Abd-Allah, we swear that there shall

not again be between us _razzia_, or theft, or murder, or reprisals

[_ousiga_], that we are brothers, and that our guns shall henceforth

fire in accord."

 

The marabouts of both parties next read the _fatahh_, or religious

invocation, and conclude with these words: "Allah bless you, our

children, for having thus buried the knife of contention, and prosper

you in your families and in your goods!" The marabouts are afterwards

visited by the chiefs of both sides who present to them offerings called

_zyara_, literally a visit.

 

Peace concluded, the tribe that had put itself into motion retraces its

steps, and at its departure executes a fantasia of the most noisy

character. The horses caracole, reports of fire-arms resound, and the

women utter loud cries. All is joy, happiness, and delirium. A dozen of

the chiefs of this tribe remain in the midst of their late enemies, and

receive from them a splendid hospitality, and even costly presents. And

at their departure they take with them some of their hosts, and requite

their new-found friends with a generous welcome. These truces last a

considerable time; that is, from one to two years.

 

Peace, however, would certainly not have been concluded if the marabouts

who came to intercede for it had not presented themselves under cover of

the night. Had they come in the day time, the Arabs, discerning their

intrigues, would have exclaimed out of jealousy: "By the sin of our

women! we will fight. This one has received cloth-goods, that one money,

another jewels, a fourth cotton-stuffs, and that other one arms. But we,

whose brothers are dead, whose flocks have been carried, we have got

nothing. Yes, we swear it by Sidi Abd-Allah, the powder shall speak."

And, in truth, the powder very often does speak, and without the envious

having had any cause to complain of the presents made to their chiefs,

and without their having prevented the latter from entering into

negotiations, and accepting conditions from which no advantage would

accrue to the commonality. This happens when the tribe threatened has

resolved to oppose force to force, and has prepared for a struggle.

 

In the latter event the enemy is allowed to approach within a day's

march. No advances are made, no propositions offered. The march is

therefore continued on the morrow, and the camp is pitched about two

leagues from that of the tribe which awaits the assault. The scouts of

the two parties come into collision, and, mutually exasperating each

another, prelude actual hostilities by insults. A few musket shots are

exchanged, and they cry out to one another:— "O Fatma, daughters of

Fatma! The night has arrived; why go on to-day? To-morrow shall be

called your day." Or, "Dogs, sons of dogs, wait till to-morrow! If you

are men, you will meet us."

 

The skirmishers fall back, and the leaders on both sides organise as

quickly as possible a guard of one hundred horsemen and one hundred

foot-soldiers, to insure the safety of the camp. On the morrow they

watch each other attentively. If one party strike their tents, the

others do the same; or if they leave their tents pitched, and advance to

the combat with horses and foot, and with the women mounted on camels,

the example is followed on the other side. The cavaliers of the two

tribes confront one another. The women are placed in the rear, ready to

excite the combatants by their cries and applause, and are themselves

protected by the foot-soldiers who form the reserve. The battle begins

by small parties of ten or a dozen horsemen bearing down upon the

flanks, and trying to turn the enemy. The chiefs, at the head of a

tolerably compact mass, keep in the centre. Presently the affair grows

warm and animated. The bravest and best mounted of the young men dash

forward, carried away by passion and the thirst for blood. Uncovering

their heads, they strike up their war-songs, and excite themselves by

loud outcries:—

 

"Where are they who have mistresses? It is beneath their eyes that the

warriors will combat this day!

 

"Where are they who, in the presence of the chiefs, were always boasting

of their valour? It is to-day that tongues should be long, and not in

peaceful gossipings.

 

"Where are they who run after fame?

 

"Forward, sons of powder! You see before you those sons of Jews! Our

sabre shall drink of their blood, and their goods we will give to our

women.

 

"Strike out, young men! Strike out! It is not the balls that kill, but

fate."

 

These shouts madden the horsemen. They make their steeds rear up on end,

and fire off their pieces. Every face asks for blood. They rush

together, and at last attack each other with the sabre. One party or the

other, however, soon gives way, and begins to fall back upon the camels

carrying the women. Then shrieks arise from both sides. These scream

with joy, to animate yet more the victors—those utter wrathful and

terrible imprecations, to rally the failing courage of their husbands

and brothers.

 

"Look at those famous warriors who show off with their bright stirrups

and splendid garments at marriage feasts and festivals! Look at them

running away and abandoning even their women! O Jews, and sons of Jews!

alight and let us mount your horses, and from henceforth you shall no

longer be counted among men. Oh! Allah curse all cowards!"

 

These railings recall the spirit of the vanquished. They make a vigorous

effort, and, supported by the fire of the foot-soldiers who are in

reserve, they recover the lost ground, and even hurl the enemy back into

the midst of his own women, who now rail as loudly as they lately

applauded. The struggle is renewed on the ground that separates the

women of the two tribes. During these varying phases the contest has

been very desperate, and before long the side that has most men and

horses wounded, that has lost the greatest number, and, above all, that

has witnessed the fall of its most valiant chiefs, takes to flight,

notwithstanding the exhortations and prayers of a few energetic men, who

fly from right to left, trying to rally the fugitives and restore the

fight. These brave fellows cry aloud:— "Are there any men here, or are

there not? Hold your own souls! If you flee, they will carry off your

women and leave you nothing but shame. Die! Let it not be said: 'They

fled!' Die! and you will yet live!"

 

A beautiful and touching scene will, perhaps, then be enacted. A chief

of the highest rank, in despair at being defeated, throws himself into

the _mêlée_ to seek death, but is held back by the young men who gather

round him, and beseech him to retire. "Thou art our father!" they will

exclaim; "What will become of us if thou shouldst perish? It is our duty

to die for thee. We will not remain as sheep without a shepherd." A

handful of warriors still endeavour to make head against the foe, but

they are swept away in the general rout, and soon find themselves by the

side of their women. Every one, then, seeing that all is lost, devotes

himself to saving what is dearest to him. As rapidly as possible they

make to the rear, only from time to time facing about to check the

pursuit of the enemy.

 

The audacity of desperation has more than once changed the face of

things. Aïssa-ben-el-Sheriff, a child of fourteen, mounted on horseback

with his tribe to repel an attack directed by Sid-el-Djedid. The Arbâa

were beginning to give way and take to flight, when the boy, throwing

himself before them, tried to stop them: "What!" he exclaimed, "You are

men, and are afraid! You have been brought up in the midst of powder,

and do not know how to burn it! Did you pay all that attention to your

mares only to make use of them in flight?" And when the others replied,

"Djedid! Djedid! Look at Djedid!" "Djedid," continued the child. "It is

a single man that makes you flee! Behold, then, this terrible warrior,

who puts hundreds to the rout, checked in his victorious career by a

child!" With these words he dashed his spurs into his horse's flanks,

and came up with the redoubtable warrior. Djedid, fearing nothing from a

mere boy, was off his guard, but the latter threw himself round his

neck, entwined his arms round him, and, leaving his own horse, hung by

one arm, while with the other he endeavoured to stab him with his knife.

Astonished at such audacity, and hampered in his movements, Djedid

strove in vain to shake him off, but with all his presence of mind he

was unable to parry the boy's frequent thrusts. Puzzled what to do, he

slipped off his horse, hoping to crush Aïssa in his fall. The latter,

however, succeeded in avoiding him, and throwing himself on the courser

of the dreaded chief, rejoined his tribe, to whom he exhibited a trophy

that made the oldest warrior blush for the momentary panic to which they

had yielded.

 

Were it not that the conquerors usually build a golden bridge for the

conquered, the latter might be easily destroyed; but the thirst for

pillage gains the day, and the victors disperse in search of plunder.

One despoils a foot-soldier, another a horseman whom he has overthrown;

another, again, leads away a steed, and yet another a negro. Thanks to

this disorder, the bravest of the discomfited tribe succeed in saving

their women, and even their tents. When the pillage is at an end, the

horsemen of the victorious tribe are anxious to return home, and their

chiefs encourage the desire. "We have slain numbers," say they. "We have

seized their horses, captured their women, taken their guns, and

refreshed our souls by making orphans of these sons of dogs. Our best

plan now is to go and sleep at such a place, for the enemy, strengthened

by his reinforcements, may possibly resume the offensive and attack us

during the night." The baggage is sent forward in front, and, protected

by a strong rearguard, during the first few days they continue their

march until nightfall.

 

In this species of warfare, the greatest respect is shown to the captive

women. Men of low birth, indeed, despoil them of their jewels, but the

chiefs make it a point of honour to restore them to their husbands, with

their camels, their jewels, and their ornaments. They even take pains to

properly array those who have been robbed, before sending them back.