Recourse is likewise had to various forms of ambush. The Arabs sometimes

excavate a hole in the path the lion usually takes, and cover it with

thin woodwork, which the animal breaks by its weight and is caught in

the trap. At other times they dig close to a dead body a hole covered by

thick boards, between which a small opening is left to allow the barrel

of a gun to pass through. In this hole, or _melebda_, the hunter squats

down, and when the lion approaches the body, he takes a careful aim and

fires. Not unfrequently the lion, if he has not been struck down, throws

himself on the _melebda_, shatters the barrier, and devours the hunter

behind his demolished rampart. On other occasions, again, a single man

will undertake an adventurous and heroic enterprise, recalling the feats

of chivalry. Si-Mohammed-Esnoussi, a man of approved veracity, who

inhabited the Djebel-Guerzoul, near Tiaret, thus describes his own mode

of going to work:

"I used to mount a good horse and proceed to the forest on a bright

moonlight night. In those days I was a capital shot, and my ball never

fell to the ground. Then I began to cry aloud several times, _Ould el

ataïah!_—'Daughter of a mother who yields herself up!'—The lion would

come forth, and direct his steps towards the spot whence issued the cry;

and at that moment I fired at him. Occasionally the same thicket would

contain several lions, who would issue forth all together. If one of

these brutes approached me from behind, I would turn my head and fire at

him over the back of my saddle, and then go off at full gallop in the

fear that I might have missed him. If I was attacked in front, I wheeled

my horse round and repeated the manœuvre."

The people of that district affirm that the number of lions killed by

Mohammed-ben-Esnoussi amounted to nearly a hundred. This intrepid hunter

was still alive in the year 1253 [A. D. 1836]. When I saw him, he had

lost his eyesight. May he participate in the mercy of Allah!

A yet more dangerous sport than hunting the lion himself, is hunting a

lion's cubs. There are individuals, however, adventurous enough to

undertake even this hazardous enterprise. Every day, about three or four

in the afternoon, the lion and lioness quit their lair to make a distant

reconnaissance, with the object, no doubt, of procuring food for their

litter. They may be seen upon the summit of an eminence, examining the

_douars_, and taking note of the smoke that issues from them, and of the

position of the flocks. After uttering some horrible roars, an

invaluable warning to the surrounding population, they again disappear.

It is during this absence that the hunters cautiously make their way to

the cubs and carry them off, taking care to gag them closely, for their

cries would not fail to bring back the old ones, who would never forgive

the outrage. After an exploit of this nature the entire neighbourhood is

obliged to be doubly vigilant. For seven or eight days the lions rush

about in all directions, roaring fearfully. The lion under such

circumstances is a truly terrible monster. At such a time the eye must

not encounter the eye.

The flesh of the lion, though sometimes eaten, is not good, but his skin

is a valued gift, and presented only to Sultans and illustrious chiefs,

and occasionally, to marabouts and _zaouïas_. The Arabs fancy that it is

good to sleep upon one, as it drives away the demons, conjures up good

fortune, and averts certain diseases. Lion's claws, mounted in silver,

are used as ornaments by women; while the skin of his forehead is a

talisman worn by some persons on their head to preserve the energy and

audacity of their brain. In short, lion-hunting is held in high repute

among the Arabs. Every combat with that animal may take the device:

_Kill or Die!_ He who kills him, eats him—says the proverb—and he who

kills him not is eaten by him. In this spirit they bestow on any one who

has killed a lion, this laconic and virile eulogy: _Hadak houa_—"that

one is he!" A popular belief illustrates the grandeur of the part played

by the lion in the life and imagination of the Arabs. When a lion roars,

they pretend that they can readily distinguish the following words:

_Ahna ou ben-el mera_—"I and the son of woman." Now, as he twice repeats

_ben-el mera_, and only once says _ahna_, they conclude that he

recognizes no superior save the son of woman.

THE CAMEL.[89]

It was said by the Prophet: "The good things of this world, to the day

of the last judgment, are attached to the forelocks of your horses;

"Sheep are a blessing;

"And the Almighty has created nothing, as an animal, preferable to the

camel."

The camel is the ship of the desert. Allah hath said: "You may load your

merchandize in barks and on camels." As in the desert there is very

little water, and there are long distances to be traversed, the Almighty

has endowed them with the faculty of easily enduring thirst. In winter

they never drink. The Prophet more than once gave the following advice:

"Never utter coarse remarks on the subject of the camel or of the wind:

the former is a boon to men, the latter an emanation from the soul of

Allah." Camels are the most extraordinary animals in the world, and yet

there are none more docile, owing to their being so much with men.

So great, indeed, is their docility, that they have been known to

follow a rat, that, in the act of gnawing, pulled a rope smeared with

butter, by which they were fastened. Such is the will of Allah. These

apophthegms suffice to show that the camel is, of all created animals,

the most useful in respect of the wants of the Arabs.

The Arabs of the Sahara can tell the age of a camel by its teeth. They

say it is long-lived, though they cannot give any very precise

information on the subject. They put the case, however, in this manner.

If a camel be born on the same day with a child, it has reached old age

by the time the latter has distinguished himself in combats, which

implies the age of eighteen to twenty-five years. Camels require much

care and experience in managing them. Whenever it is possible, the male

camels are led to a different pasture from the females. After the 15th

of April, they are not sent out to feed until the afternoon, because it

has been remarked that the grass is covered with a sort of dew that lays

the foundation of fatal diseases. Care is also taken to prevent the

camels from eating within the _douar_ what remains in the morning of the

small quantity of grass given to the horses overnight. These precautions

are necessary during the six weeks or two months in which the dew is

observed. Throughout the whole winter, the end of autumn, and the

beginning of spring, the camels may be permitted, with advantage, to

browse on shrubs with a salt flavour; but in the beginning of April, and

at the end of May, they must not be allowed to do so for more than five

or six days.

The shearing of the camels takes place in the latter part of April. They

are made to lie down, and are operated upon by the shepherds and female

slaves, a woman standing behind them to gather the fleece which she

thrusts into bags. It is a somewhat slow operation. _El oubeur_, or

camel's fleece, is used in making canvas for tents, camel-ropes, sacks

called _gherara_, and _djellale_, or horse-cloths. It is mixed almost

invariably with common wool.

The ordinary burden of a camel is two _tellis_ of wheat, or about 250

kilogrammes. If not over-driven, it can go from dawn to sunset, at least

if it be allowed, as it journeys along, to elongate its neck and pluck

the herbage that grows on either side of its path. In this manner it

will cover from ten to twelve leagues in the twenty-four hours, and

every fifth day it must be permitted to rest. In the desert, camels are

let out to hire, not by the day, but by the journey, going and

returning, according to the distance. For instance, from El-Biod, among

the Oulad-Sidi-Shikh, to the Beni-Mzab, or about fifty leagues, costs

from two to three _douros_, and from the same point to Timimoun six or

seven _douros_.

The flesh of the camel is eaten as food. The animal, however, is seldom

killed unless it has a broken leg, or is sick. The flesh is sometimes

salted, and, after being dried in the sun, is kept as a provision on a

journey. The love and veneration felt by the Arabs of the Sahara for

their camels are quite intelligible. "How should we not love them?" they

exclaim. "Alive, they transport ourselves, our wives, our children, our

baggage and provisions, from the land of oppression to that of liberty.

The weight they can carry is enormous, and the distance they traverse

very considerable. In other words, they further the relations of

commerce and render aid in war. Thanks to them, we are able, whenever we

please, to shift our encampment, whether in search of new pasturages, or

to escape from an enemy. Moreover, we drink their milk, which is also

useful in the preparations of food, and neutralises the injurious

qualities of the date. Dead, their flesh is everywhere eaten with

relish, and their hump is sought after as a savoury dish. Their skin

serves as shoe-leather. If soaked, and then sewed to the saddle-tree, it

imparts, without the aid of a single nail or peg, a solidity that

nothing can affect. Then, their sobriety and endurance of heat and

thirst permit them to be kept alike by rich and poor. They are truly a

boon from Allah, who hath said:—

Horses for a dispute,

Oxen for poverty.

Camels for the desert.

SHEEP.

No cattle are reared in the Sahara, owing to the scarcity of water, the

scantiness of the herbage, the stony nature of the ground, and the

frequent removals from one place to another. But, if the desert be

unfavourable for the rearing of cattle, it is, assuredly, the veritable

country of the sheep. This animal finds there the salt shrubs eaten by

the camel, as well as many fragrant and nutritious plants known by the

generic name of _el aâsheub_. Water it obtains from the ponds supplied

by the rains, or from the basins formed by the side of wells, and kept

up with great care. The wells themselves are, for the most part,

surrounded with masonry, and sheltered from the drifting sands. Sheep,

besides, are patient of thirst. In spring, they are given to drink once

in five or six days; in summer, every other day; in autumn, every third

day; and in winter every fourth day. During the great heats of summer,

they are not allowed to touch the pools of water lying on the surface of

the ground,—experience having shown that at that period of the year

stagnant water, rendered tepid by the sun's rays, is very unwholesome.

If a drought happens to have prevailed during the first two months of

spring, and if rain falls plentifully in the third, the herbage grows

luxuriantly, and is called _khelfa_, or compensation. As if to make

amends for their long abstinence, the sheep eat it greedily, but it is

apt to give them a sickness named _el ghoche_, or treason. This disease

does not manifest itself until after the summer heats. The head and

lower jaw become much swollen, the animal coughs continually, and death

usually supervenes. According to the Arabs, a rainy autumn, by causing

fresh grass to spring up early, greatly tends to mitigate the pernicious

effects of the _ghoche_.

Sheep are very prolific. They generally lamb twice in the year—in the

early part of spring and autumn. The large tribes possess from two to

three hundred thousand sheep, which are divided into flocks of four

hundred, called _ghelem_ or _aâssa_ [a stick]. Wealthy individuals have

from fifteen to twenty _ghelem_, and the poorest a half, or even a

quarter _ghelem_.

In the Sahara there is a species of sheep that yields a magnificent

wool, very soft but not very long. This is the wool employed in the

manufacture of articles of luxury. These animals are nearly red in the

head, and the ewes give a great deal of milk.

It is said of the finest ewes of this breed:

They see like an owl,

And walk like a tortoise.

Their wool descends to their hoofs and so completely covers their head

that, literally, nothing but their eyes is visible. In the Sahara and in

the _kuesours_, a _zedja_, or fleece, is worth only one _boudjou_, but

the price is greatly enhanced by the time it reaches the Tell, and

especially the sea-coast. Some sheep have no horns, and are called

_fertass_ [bald]. Others, again, have four, and are known as _el

kuerbourb_; while others have horns that are bent back, and are named

_el kheroubi_.

The Arabs take no care whatever of their sheep. They have no sheds in

which to shelter them from the severity of the weather, nor supplies of

forage to save them from starvation. Consequently, in bad seasons they

frequently lose one-half of their flocks, and if blamed for this

carelessness, or offered advice, they answer quite simply: "To what

purpose is all that? They are the property of Allah [_Kher Eurby_]. He

does with them as it pleases Him. Our ewes give us two lambs every year.

Next year our losses will be repaired."

The following sentiments are ascribed to sheep:—

"I love the close hand, that is, to belong to a miser who would neither

sell us, nor slaughter us for the entertainment of his guests.

"I love distant market-places; for when they are near to my master, for

one reason or another we are sold, or slaughtered.

"And every day a new house; that is, fresh and more abundant pasturage."

Sheep are the fortune of the child of the desert. He says of them:

"Their wool serves to make our tents, our carpets, our garments, our

horse-cloths, our sacks, our nose-bags, our camel's-packs, our ropes,

our cushions. And what remains in excess of our own necessities we sell

in the _kuesours_ or in the Tell, when we go there, after harvest, to

buy grain. Their flesh we eat, or give it to be eaten by the guests of

Allah. Dried in the sun, it will keep, and be of use to us in our

journeys. Their milk is very serviceable to our families, whether as

drink or food. We make of it _leben_ or _sheneen_ [sour milk], and what

is over we give to our horses. We also get butter from it, which enters

into the preparation of our food, or which we exchange in the _kuesours_

for dates. Of their skin we make cushions, and buckets to draw water

from the well. With it we ornament the _aâtatouches_[90] of our women,

or we dress it for shoe-leather. We have no need to plough, or sow, or

reap, or thresh out the corn, or to fatigue ourselves like vile slaves,

or like the wretched inhabitants of the Tell. No; we are independent, we

pray, we trade, we hunt, we travel, and if we have occasion to procure

that which others can only obtain by sweat and toil, we sell our sheep,

and forthwith provide ourselves with arms, horses, women, jewels,

clothes, or whatever else affords us gratification, or embellishes our

existence. The owner of sheep has no need to labour, nor is he ever in

want of anything. So Allah has willed it!"

LIFE IN THE DESERT.

In studying life in the desert, I have been greatly struck by its

analogy to that of the Middle Ages, and by the resemblance which exists

between the horseman of the Sahara and the knight of our legends,

romances, and chronicles. This analogy will appear yet more real, this

resemblance yet more striking, on a close observation of the accessory

characteristics which I now propose to sketch with a rapid hand.

By the Arab of the Sahara, I do not mean a dweller in the _kuesours_.

The latter is rallied by the wandering tribes as much as the inhabitants

of the Tell, and receives at their hands all sorts of derisive epithets.

Grown fat through his habits of indoor and commercial life, he is called

"the father of the belly," the grocer, the pepper-dealer. This rearer of

fowls—the Arab of the tent possesses no fowls—this shopkeeper resembles

the simple citizen of all countries and of all times. He is, at bottom,

the villain, the churl of the Middle Ages. He is the Moorish citizen of

Algiers—he has the same placid, apathetic, crafty physiognomy.

It is of the master of the tent that I propose to speak: of him who is

never more than fifteen to twenty days without changing his abode; of

the genuine Nomad, of him who never enters "the tiresome Tell" but once

a year, and then only to purchase grain. My horseman, my hunter, my

warrior is the man with a hardy iron-nerved constitution, a complexion

embrowned by the sun, limbs well proportioned, in stature rather tall

than short, but making light of the advantage of height, "of that lion's

skin on a cow's back," unless adroitness, activity, health, vigour and,

above all, courage be combined with it. But if he values courage, he

also pities rather than despises, and never insults those who "want

liver." It is not their fault, he good-humouredly remarks, but the will

of Allah. His abstinence cannot be exceeded, but, accommodating himself

to circumstances, he never neglects an opportunity of making a good and

hearty meal. His ordinary diet is simple and without much variety; but,

for all that, when the necessity arises, he understands how to entertain

his guests in a becoming manner. When the _ouadâa_, or peculiar festival

of a tribe, or _douar_, comes round, at which his friends will be

present, he would not offer them the slight implied by his absence, and

though it may be at a distance of thirty or forty leagues, he will not

fail to go there and fill himself with food. Besides, they know well

that he is quite ready to return their hospitality, and that they have

not to do with one of those stingy town traders who never offer more

than a space of four square feet to sit down in, a pipe of tobacco, and

a cup of coffee either without any sugar at all, or sugared only after

many preliminary phrases, carefully enunciated in recommendation of

coffee without sugar.

Among the Arabs, everything concurs to give power to the development of

the natural man. Nervous, hardy, sober, though occasionally displaying a

vigorous appetite, their eyesight is keen and piercing. They boast that

they can distinguish a man from a woman when two to three leagues

distant, and a flock of camels from a flock of sheep at double that

distance. Nor is this mere bragging. The extent and clearness of their

vision arise, as in the case of our sailors, from the incessant habit of

looking far ahead over an immense and objectless space. And, accustomed

as they are to scenes and objects always the same and which encircle

them within narrow limits, it would be strange if they did not recognize

them under almost any circumstances. Nevertheless, diseases of the eye

are very common. The refraction of the sun's rays, the dust and

perspiration cause numerous misadventures, such as ophthalmia and

leucoma, and blind and one-eyed men are numerous in many parts of the

desert—for instance, among the Beni-Mzab, at El Ghrassoul, Ouargla, and

Gourara.

The dweller in the desert, in infancy and youth, has beautiful white,

even teeth; but the use of dates as his habitual and almost exclusive

diet spoils them as he advances in years. When a tooth is entirely

decayed, he is compelled to have recourse to the armourer or farrier,

who is privileged to torture his patient, to break his jaw with his

pincers, and tear away the gums together with the tooth that was

troubling him.

The genuine chief, the real great lord, rarely leaves the saddle, and

very seldom goes on foot, though he wears both boots and shoes. The

common Arab, however, is an indefatigable walker, and in the course of a

day will get over an incredible distance. His ordinary pace is what the

French call the _pas gymnastique_ [which is quicker than the English

"double"], and what he himself calls a dog-trot. On flat ground, he

generally takes off his shoes, if he happens to have any, partly that he

may walk faster and more comfortably, and partly that he may not wear

them out. Consequently, his foot is like that of antique statues, broad

and flat, and with the toes wide apart. He is never troubled with corns,

and more than once Christians, who have insinuated themselves into

caravans, have been detected by this infallible sign and expelled. The

sole of the foot acquires such hardness, that neither sand nor stones

affect it, and a thorn sometimes penetrates to the depth of several

lines without being felt. In the desert, properly so called, however,

the sand during the great heat of summer is so burning hot that it is

impossible to walk upon it with naked feet. Even the horses are obliged

to be shod, or their feet would become painful and diseased. The dread

of being bitten by the _lefâ_, a viper whose venom is fatal, also

compels the Arabs themselves to wear buskins rising above the ankle.

The most common disease of the foot is the _cheggag_, or chaps, which

are healed by having grease rubbed in, and by being afterwards

cauterised with a hot iron. Sometimes these chaps are so long and deep

that they are obliged to be sewed up. The thread used for the purpose is

made of camel's sinews dried in the sun, and split into parts as fine as

silk; spun camel's hair is, likewise, employed. All the inhabitants of

the desert make use of this thread to mend their saddles, and bridles,

and wooden platters. Every one carries about with him a housewife, a

knife, and a needle.

Not a few turn their powers of pedestrianism to a good account, and make

it their profession. Hence come the runners and messengers, who gird

themselves tightly with a belt. These who are called _rekass_ undertake

affairs of great urgency. They will do in four days what the ordinary

runners take ten to accomplish. They scarcely ever stop, but if they

find it necessary to rest they count sixty inhalations of the breath and

start again immediately. A _rekass_ who receives four francs for going

sixty leagues thinks himself well paid. This modest reward, however, is

the more highly appreciated because it is paid in actual money. Specie

is rare, and is the smallest portion of an Arab's fortune. The

restricted circulation, and the facility of providing for the principal

necessities of life without buying or selling, by simply having

occasional recourse to barter are far from lowering the value of coined

money.

In the desert a special messenger travels night and day, and sleeps only

two hours in the twenty-four. When he lies down he fastens to his foot a

piece of cord of a certain length, to which he sets fire; and, just as

it is nearly burned out, the heat awakens him. In 1846, an Arab, named

El-Thouamy, a native of Leghrouât, was sent by the Kalifa

Sid-Hamed-ben-Salem to Berryân, a town situated in the country of the

Beni-Mzab. Starting at five in the morning from Kuesyr-el-Heyrân, he

reached his destination about seven in the evening of the same day. In

fourteen hours he had covered 168 kilomètres, travelling at the rate of

twelve kilomètres an hour. This same Thouamy set out one day from

Negoussa to go to Berryân, a distance of 180 kilomètres, charged with an

important message, and accomplished the journey in sixteen hours. During

both of these courses this man eat only a few dates and drank about two

_litres_ of water.

In 1850, El-Ghiry, of the tribe of the Mokhalif, was hunting the

ostrich, and, while wholly absorbed in chasing a _delim_, his horse

broke down just as his last drop of water was exhausted. All trace of

his companions was lost. For thrice twenty-four hours he wandered about

at random, in the desert, without food or water. During the day he slept

under a _bethoum_, and walked all night. His family had given him up

entirely, when at length they saw him approaching. At first they could

hardly recognize him, so utterly exhausted was he, so blackened by the

sun, and reduced to such a skeleton. He afterwards related that he

believed he owed his life to his dreams, in which he beheld his mother

tending him, and giving him something to eat and drink. These visions,

he said, had comforted and sustained him in his sore distress.

Let us now pass on from these examples of vigour and abstinence, which

might be multiplied to infinity, and give a tolerably correct estimate

of the goods and chattels of a Saharene nomad. This inventory will

afford a far better idea of life in the desert than can be obtained from

a long description. I take a man of influential family, and assume that

his household is constituted after the following fashion. Himself, four

wives, four sons, the wives of two of his sons, each of whom has a

child, four negroes, four negresses, two white men servants, two white

women servants: in all, twenty-five souls. He may also, of course, have

daughters, but they are sure to be married, and are no further trouble

to him. Such a household as this will possess:

The Horses of the Sahara and the Manners of the Desert · 第 19 / 23 段