THE SHEIK OF THE LION TRIBES.
Ali, who was the Sheik of the douar that had plundered the Cafila; and
had gone in pursuit of the flying soldiers; soon discovered Mohammed,
all alone, and urging on his fatigued horse, which had no chance of
escape from the enduring animal ridden by the Arab, whose object was,
not to injure the soldier, but to secure the belt he wore round his
person; so that, when within fifty yards of the chase, he called out to
him to stop at his peril, promising quarter on submission.
Mohammed, recognising his travelling companion, and not daring to trust
him after what he had said, checked his labouring horse, and, turning
round in his saddle, levelled his long gun and fired, but with uncertain
aim. The Arab muttered a deep curse as his horse fell under him, and,
springing to his feet before the Moor could recover his speed, he had
fired with a firm footing. Mohammed reeled in his saddle, his gun and
reins dropped from his weakened grasp, he snatched at the pommel, and
rolled over on the sand. The horse, missing his rider, stopped short,
and stood foam-covered and panting with fatigue.
Ali, seeing his enemy fall, turned to his own horse, and a short
examination showed that he would not rise again. The ball had struck his
shoulder, and glanced inwards. The Arab sat down opposite his favourite,
and buried his face in his hands; he thought of the many years he had
stood at his tent, and the many perils from which he had saved him. He
might have another, he might get a better, but it would not be the same.
The wounded animal raised his head, in a weak effort to take a last look
at his master, while large tears rolled from his bright eyes down his
face.
"Poor Gazelle! O my child--you want but speech. God is great! It is
written!--we must part!" and he retired a few paces to witness the end
of his favourite. The expiring horse made a sudden plunge to regain his
feet, but fell back powerless, his bright eye filmed, a convulsive
struggle came over his frame, he groaned heavily, and died.
"You are avenged," said Ali, as he walked slowly to where Mohammed was
lying; "for you, your doom was just. God is great!--his curse has fallen
on his own head; his money has cost him his life,--and never will _his_
children find their father's grave."
He unfastened the belt which the Moor wore under his clothes, and he
found it was padded with doubloons and bintekee; he also stripped him of
the principal part of his clothing; burnoose, caftan, and turban being
of no use to one whose bones would bleach the desert till the judgment;
and throwing the things across the Moor's jaded horse, he took a last
look at his faithful companion, and returned with a heavy heart to
rejoin his band, an additional pang going through him as the dark
shadows of the vultures, descending from the blue vault, passed and
repassed him, sharply defined by the sunlight on the white plain. The
camels had been all reloaded, ready to start, escorted by the Arab
horsemen. The plundered merchants, with a few sorry animals which were
restored to them, and with sufficient provisions to serve them on their
return, were left to retrace their steps to Marocco. The night was now
setting in, and the band, accompanied by Yusuf, who was mounted on the
tall mule that had belonged to the little Fez Moor, struck across the
desert, travelling by the light of the stars, with an occasional rest,
till morning; and as the sun rose, clear and warm, above the level of
the horizon, they came in sight of the head-quarters of the Arab Chief,
situated in a sort of depression of the ground. This spot was called
_Ain El Khmmis_, from five wells, which afforded an invaluable supply of
water. Myriads of black goats'-hair tents covered the plain, pitched in
circles, or hollow squares of thirty or sixty tents, under their
different Sheiks. Horses were picketed before every tent; camels were
kneeling in rows, or straggling in search of stray vegetation, or
browsing on the shoots of the stunted absinth and thorny shrubs that
studded the plain. As the band approached this city of tents, the Arabs
were at their morning prayers, and the sound of the chant, from such a
multitude of voices, had an imposing effect, as it rose in the distance.
By the time they arrived, all had betaken themselves to their
occupations, some driving their flocks to pasture, some tending their
horses--few giving more than a passing glance and a "Salamo Allikoom,"
to the advancing party. It was a strange contrast to the scene presented
by the encampments of the Moorish soldiery;--there, all is confusion,
and nothing heard from morn till night but music, singing, and
revelling, mingled with the constant discharge of fire-arms. _Here_, all
was order, their tents being their homes; every one had his occupation,
while in and around the tents the women were employed grinding corn,
spinning wool, weaving hayks in hand-looms, &c. It is the difference
between a tent as a home, and a tent as an amusement. In the midst of
the camp were pitched the tents of the Chief, marked by a large green
silk banner; they were placed in two concentric circles, the inner one
entirely private. In the outer circle, one large tent towards the East,
and the only one that opened outwards, was set apart for audiences, for
guests, for meeting the Sheiks on business, and disposing of disputes
and causes among his people. The dialect of Arabic, spoken in the
desert, is remarkable for its deep guttural intonation; that of Marocco
for its softness.
Sidi Hamed Ibn Ishem was sitting in this large tent, which was only
furnished with a few mat cushions, but spread with carpets, when Ali and
his band arrived. He wore the same dress as his people, his patriarchal
authority requiring no external mark of distinction. He was a fine model
of masculine beauty, tall and symmetrically made, but spare, and with
feminine-looking hands and feet. His hair clustered round his head in
short, glossy curls, and his whiskers and moustache terminated in a
short, wavy beard. His features were aquiline; his head not large, but
would have served as a model for an Æneas. His countenance and eye
showed firmness and severity tempered by benevolence and generosity,
which commanded confidence and inspired sympathy. He was surrounded by
the principal Sheiks, when Ali halted his men, and went in to make his
report. The Sheik rose, and their salutation was as of two friends and
equals, kissing each other's hands and heads.
"Welcome, O Sheik! Is all well?"
"God has blessed us, Ya Sidi; all is well!"
"Praise be to Him! Why does the Sheik ride another horse? Where is
Gazelle? You would not part with him alive?"
"My lord has said:--he lies low on the Sahel. The vulture and hyena are
feasting on my beautiful, he fell not unavenged, the hand that smote him
lies cold by his side on the plain: God's will be done! Must not death
come to all?"
"My heart is straitened for your loss: is it not that of a friend? It
was written, O Sheik! But what--are there not horses in our tents? We
will find you another."
"May God enlarge my lord's tent, who soothes the wounds of his servants
as with the balm of Mecca. This makes me not feel my loss."
"Are we not friends? Are we not brothers, children of Ishmael? What is
mine is my brother's."
The business of the caravan having been disposed of, Ali informed him
that a Jew had been taken travelling with the Cafila, and was waiting
without to be introduced, he had not been injured, as he held a token
from the Chief, and claimed his protection. Dismissing his companions,
the Chief retired to a private tent, where Yusuf was conducted to his
presence. And the son of Isaac bowed down and kissed the earth before
the son of Ishmael, the lord of the desert.
"In the name of God, peace; and his blessing upon my lord, the Sheik,
and upon his tents."
"Peace, O my friend!" said the Sheik, in a tone of encouragement.
"Speak; you are fasting and fatigued. Speak--are we not alone?"
"The journey I have travelled to see my lord's face has been long, but
it did not make me faint; thy servant is crushed with the sorrow that
has preyed on his heart. Does my lord remember his servant Rabbi
Shallum?"
"Can I forget him? God has taken him. Behold that horse," pointing to a
noble black charger, picketed in front of the tent. "Did he not ransom
his sire? and did he not aid me to escape from the hands of my enemies?
and shall I not remember him? Has any evil befallen his house?"
"Alas! my lord, that is my errand: and that I speak truth, behold the
token my lord gave into his hands. The hour of need is come."
And he presented the pouch, which the Sheik immediately recognised.
Yusuf then related the history of Azora's arrest and danger, and that he
had since heard that she had been removed to the Sultan's hareem. "And
now, O my lord," he said, "if you will assist the child of your friend,
her peril is pressing, and delay is death."
"Have I not given a pledge? and shall it not be redeemed? If it is in
the power of my hand, she shall not perish, if it please God. This shall
be attended to before all. Go now and refresh thyself. We will speak on
this matter."
Yusuf hesitated in doubt. "O my lord, forgive my speech. God be praised
for your promise of help. But doubts arise in my mind. We are Jews--we
are despised, my lord is of a high race, and of a great heart; but will
his servants among the tribes approve of his assisting us; and may not
policy compel my lord to disappoint our hopes? Let not my words offend."
"You are forgiven: for thus do the people of the city act. But know that
an Arab's Pledge is irrevocable. Who," said he, rising, while his face
beamed with generous feeling, "who was it that rescued me and returned
my father's son to his tents?--A Hebrew! Who restored the chief to his
people?--A Hebrew! Who ransomed thy sire, my noble steed, from the
galling yoke of an hireling?--A Hebrew! And who saved me from death, and
from loss of liberty worse than death, and gave me once more to see the
dark tents of my tribe, and to feel my heart again expand in the
freedom of my dear native plains? All this weight of benefit was
conferred on me by a Hebrew! Did he allow me to perish because I was of
another faith? Did he forsake me in peril because I was a Moslem? No! We
had this faith in common,--God is the God of nations. Let every man
cleave to his own form that he has received from his fathers; but do
good to all, like God's rain; and never abandon a son of Adam in
distress, because he worships his God in a different manner from
himself. And shall the Arab be shamed by the Hebrew? Shall Hamed Ibn
Ishem remain in quiet enjoyment of all that the Hebrew's hand has
restored, whilst his child lies in peril, and not arise to save her? Go,
my friend, our tents are yours. Think better of the son of Ishem, and
believe that he never gave a pledge, which, with the help of God, he
will not, at whatever peril, to the uttermost redeem."
Yusuf, though his habits and pursuits had given him a practical turn of
mind, could not help gazing with admiration at the noble form before
him, draped in his falling hayk, his action giving emphasis to his
generous speech; and he thought that such a man might have been Abraham,
when greeting the angels at the door of his tent.
"May the blessing of the God of our father Abraham be upon you!" said
he; and kissing the Sheik's hand he retired to the tent allotted to him,
to rest after his long fatigues, and offer up his thanksgiving for the
success of his mission.
Ali having disposed of the booty of the Cafila, repaired to his own
camp.
"God be praised for your return," said his wife, who flew to embrace
him, "how often are you absent now, O my lord, and I am left desolate in
the tent!"
She was a type of Arab loveliness, was Zaïda; the bright crimson shone
through her tinted, but transparent cheeks, her hair fell, a waving
veil, over her shoulders, and her large eyes were turned inquiringly in
his face. He returned her embrace, and then releasing himself from her
soft arms, he sat down sorrowfully on the carpet, and threw down the
soldier's belt.
"It is the will of God," he said; "there is gold, accursed be it, it has
cost me my friend--Gazelle is dead!"
"Dead!" echoed Zaïda, and the beautiful creature again threw herself
into her husband's arms, and wept on his bosom; she grieved for his
loss, she grieved for her own; but she grieved more for what he had
suffered. Her grief gave a new turn to his thoughts.
"Be consoled, my darling," he said, caressing her, and wiping away her
tears. "God has given and God has taken; but have I not you? Have I not
many blessings? Why do I complain? The gold will buy another horse;
but--it will be another. Where is my boy? Where is Ishmael?"
"He went out early," she said, "but his return cannot be delayed: I see
him coming even now."
A fine lad of twelve or fourteen now came up, holding a gun in one hand,
and with the other leading a large tawny greyhound, whose sedate
physiognomy contrasted with the bright, joyous face of the young Arab,
as he ran to meet his father. He paused a minute as he passed the spot
where the soldier's horse was tethered, and then embraced his father.
"My heart is joyful that you have returned in peace," said he, "but--"
and he turned an inquiring and pained look towards the place whence he
missed his loved companion.
"Yes, my boy," said Ali, "a stranger stands in the place of your friend,
you will see Gazelle no more--he fell in a fray by the hand of an
enemy."
"Gone for ever!" cried Ishmael: large tears rose to his eyes, which he
could not control, and dashing down the stock of his gun, with childish
wrath: "would that I had here the base-born that did the deed, even this
tent should not protect him from vengeance!"
"Be silent, boy! you know not what you say. You are young. But learn
that the sanctuary of this tent should protect even the murderer of thy
father! But here, put away these things," giving him his sword, gun, and
accoutrements.
Ishmael felt the justice of his father's reproof; but his young mind
thought it a great hardship to forego a just revenge. Having put away
the arms in a corner of the tent, he and his father joined in the meal
which had been waiting, and was now sent out from the inner tent. By the
time they had finished, an Arab was seen approaching, leading a fine
iron-grey horse, completely equipped, and they went out to meet him.
"Sidi Hamed," said the Arab, "has sent you this horse to replace the one
you have lost, and my lord desires you to be in readiness to mount in a
few hours for a long journey."
"Tell the Sheik," said Ali, "that I am grateful for his gift. Is not my
life at his service? Say I will await his orders."
The horse having been consigned to an attendant, "Go," said he to his
son, "and tell your mother what you have heard--I cannot!"