FURTHER PROGRESS.--RELIGIOUS CEREMONIES.
Cold Weather.--Milianah.--Vezoul.--The Aubergiste.--El Afroun.--The
Rhamazan.--Dancing Dervishes.
In order to avoid the trouble of carrying our ammunition back with us,
we sold the greater portion of it. The snow lay four or five inches
deep in the road; we sent to the commandant to procure us mules and
other necessaries, and set out, with a snow-storm beating down upon
us, and the cold as sharp as it well could be. At the "Scorpion" we
refreshed ourselves with coffee, and then re-crossed the river, which
was scarcely fordable; we got to El Massin about six o'clock; the
brigadier told us he had shot a hyena. Some capital wild boar they
gave us for dinner, seemed to be an earnest of our return to sporting
latitudes. At half-past seven next morning, we emerged from the
caravanserai. The weather seemed at last, after a long season of
inclemency, to have set in for heat. "_Le temps s'est remis a neuf_,"
observed Mr. Ball; and it had changed with a vengeance, so far as the
temperature was concerned. Terribly hot we found it, marching across
the Milianah plain. We crossed the Djelish in a bac, or flying
bridge, and reached Afreville about ten o'clock. Leaving B---- and
Angelo to proceed to Medea, I went on to Milianah, where I arrived at
about twelve o'clock. While waiting there for my baggage, I noticed
some Arab boys playing at a game closely resembling hockey. Milianah
is a very strong fort, with a splendid view over the Atlas mountains
and the plain of the Djelish. I stopped at the Cat or Du-chat stables,
appropriately kept by Mr. Duchat-_el_, and found that it was too late
to stop at any place on the road to Blidah.
I took a walk through the town, and on the Grande Place found a number
of soldiers singing a chorus very creditably, without instrumental
accompaniment. They perform in this manner every Sunday. The view over
the plain of the Djelish is one of the most splendid I ever beheld,
not excepting that from the Alhambra itself. I was told I could easily
get to Blidah in a day on horseback, from Milianah, so I determined to
stay at the Hotel d'Iffly, a very comfortable place. At dinner I met
Mostyn and Captain Ross, just arrived from Algiers, per diligence.
Captain R----, who is in the Bengal Artillery, told me he thought the
French used the natives much better than we do those of India. I
differ from him. One of the French officers with whom I dined told me
the only way to manage the "Indigenes" was by that vigorous measure,
"_un coup de fouet_," and, from what I saw, I believe it to be the
case.
On Monday, the 19th, I left Milianah at about half-past seven, and
rode through splendid Pyreneean scenery to Vezoul, a French village.
The aubergiste took me for a German, and announced that he had two
German workmen staying with him, who spoke with the same accent I
used. When I repudiated my Teutonic nationality, he met me with the
remark: "_Enfin, c'est le meme sang rouge qui coule dans nos veines,
que nous soyons Anglais, Francais, ou Allemands;_" to which undeniable
proposition I rejoined, "_Oui, c'est vrai nous sommes tous Europeens
ici._" I fed my horse here, and came on, over the mountains, under a
very hot sun, to Bourkikah, where I entered the Medidja plain. On
entering this plain, the traveller enjoys a magnificent view right
onward to sea, gleaming miles away in the sunny haze. At Bourkikah, my
horse was so tired, that I was obliged to take off the saddle-bags,
and leave them at the "Bureau des Diligences," to be forwarded. Some
French officers at the hotel assured me I should not be able to get to
Blidah, and recommended me strongly to stay at El Afroun, "_chez les
Petits Freres_," if I found my horse too tired to proceed. I rode
determinedly on through the plain, but could scarcely get my horse to
move by dint of whip or spur. By the time I had crossed the river into
El Afroun, I found my horse so entirely knocked up, that it was
clearly impossible to proceed. So, of necessity, I turned into the
auberge, and had a very good dinner, enlivened by a serenade from a
legion of frogs, croaking dolefully in the neighbouring marshes.
Getting away from El Afroun by six o'clock next morning, I found
myself at Blidah by half-past seven. The cavalry horses were just
turning out on the plains, and looked very handsome as I rode into the
town. At Blidah, where I breakfasted, the sun was hot enough to burn
my face in a most unequivocal manner, and to necessitate the purchase
of a new hat. On arriving at Bouffanieh, I got off my horse, which by
this time had fairly fallen lame, and took the diligence into Algiers.
At Bouffanieh I was much amused at the proceedings of a group of
Arabs, who were squatting on the ground, selling oranges. Their first
customer was a drunken Frenchman, who came staggering up, and began
chaffing the vendors; but they evidently got the better of him in no
time, and he retired in confusion. Next came a grave, steady-looking
Spaniard, who, after much bargaining, marched off with _one_ orange.
He was followed by a little girl, who very quickly got hold of three.
I thought Algiers improved on a second view.
Next day I went for a ride to the Maison Carree, with De Warne and
Captain Thouars, of the _Euphrates_. We had a most magnificent view
over the plain of the Metidja. This was the first night of the
Rhamazan. I visited the mosques, which have been thrown open to
Europeans since the French occupation. Thence I proceeded to view a
strange religious or fanatic ceremony of the Mussulmans; some Swedish
naval officers were with us. The whole affair reminded me of a meeting
of Jumpers, or Ranters. There are no priests to take part in it. The
men stand round in a circle, reciting prayers to Allah, and calling on
Mahomet, while they work their bodies violently backwards and
forwards, till they lash themselves into a state of perfect frenzy.
One fanatic more zealous than the rest then rushes forward, cuts
himself with a knife, and stands on the sharp edge of the weapon,
which is held by another. The chaunt or psalm is then renewed, and
another devotee comes forward howling; snatches a portion of prickly
pear, and actually devours it ravenously. Then another exceedingly
zealous performer--whose face, by the way, reminded me strangely of
the portraits of Disraeli in _Punch_--seized some red-hot coals, and
held them in his mouth for a time, afterwards proceeding to swallow
lighted pipes, and execute other salamandrine feats. After witnessing
this spectacle of degradation for some time, we retired, somewhat
disgusted at the buffooneries perpetrated in this country, as
elsewhere, in the name of religion.