_Festivities in Canobia_
GALLOPED up the winding steep of Canobia the Sheikh Said Djinblat,
one of the most popular chieftains of the Druses; amiable and brave,
trustworthy and soft-mannered. Four of his cousins rode after him: he
came from his castle of Mooktara, which was not distant. He was in the
prime of manhood, tall and lithe; enveloped in a burnous which shrouded
his dark eye, his white turban, and his gold-embroidered vests; his long
lance was couched in its rest, as he galloped up the winding steep of
Canobia.
Came slowly, on steeds dark as night, up the winding steep of Canobia,
with a company of twenty men on foot armed with muskets and handjars,
the two ferocious brothers Abuneked, Nasif and Hamood. Pale is the cheek
of the daughters of Maron at the fell name of Abuneked. The Abunekeds
were the Druse lords of the town of Deir el Kamar, where the majority of
the inhabitants were Christian. When the patriarch tried to deprive the
Druses of their feudal rights, the Abunekeds attacked and sacked their
own town of Deir el Kamar. The civil war being terminated, and it being
agreed, in the settlement of the indemnities from the Druses to the
Maronites, that all plunder still in possession of the plunderers should
be restored, Nasif Abuneked said, ‘I have five hundred silver horns, and
each of them I took from the head of a Christian woman. Come and fetch
them.’
But all this is forgotten now; and least of all should it be remembered
by the meek-looking individual who is at this moment about to ascend
the winding steep of Canobia. Riding on a mule, clad in a coarse brown
woollen dress, in Italy or Spain we should esteem him a simple Capuchin,
but in truth he is a prelate, and a prelate of great power; Bishop
Nicodemus, to wit, prime councillor of the patriarch, and chief prompter
of those measures that occasioned the civil war of 1841. A single
sacristan walks behind him, his only retinue, and befitting his limited
resources; but the Maronite prelate is recompensed by universal respect;
his vanity is perpetually gratified, and, when he appears, Sheikh and
peasant are alike proud to kiss the hand which his reverence is ever
prompt to extend.
Placed on a more eminent stage, and called upon to control larger
circumstances, Bishop Nicodemus might have rivalled the Bishop of Autun;
so fertile was he in resource, and so intuitive was his knowledge of
men. As it was, he wasted his genius in mountain squabbles, and in
regulating the discipline of his little church; suspending priests,
interdicting monks, and inflicting public penance on the laity. He
rather resembled De Retz than Talleyrand, for he was naturally turbulent
and intriguing. He could under no circumstances let well alone. He was
a thorough Syrian, at once subtle and imaginative. Attached to the House
of Shehaab by policy, he was devoted to Fakredeen as much by sympathy
as interest, and had contrived the secret mission of Archbishop Murad
to Europe, which had so much perplexed M. Guizot, Lord Cowley, and Lord
Aberdeen; and which finally, by the intervention of the same Bishop
Nicodemus, Fakredeen had disowned.
Came caracoling up the winding steep of Canobia a troop of horsemen,
showily attired, and riding steeds that danced in the sunny air. These
were the princes Kais and Abdullah Shehaab, and Francis El Kazin, whom
the Levantines called Caseno, and the principal members of the Young
Syria party; some of them beardless Sheikhs, but all choicely mounted,
and each holding on his wrist a falcon; for this was the first day of
the year that they might fly. But those who cared not to seek a quarry
in the partridge or the gazelle, might find the wild boar or track the
panther in the spacious woods of Canobia.
And the Druse chief of the House of Djezbek, who for five hundred years
had never yielded precedence to the House of Djinblat, and Sheikh Fahour
Kangé, who since the civil war had never smoked a pipe with a Maronite,
but who now gave the salaam of peace to the crowds of Habeishs and
Dahdahes who passed by; and Butros Keramy, the nephew of the patriarch,
himself a great Sheikh, who inhaled his nargileh as he rode, and who
looked to the skies and puffed forth his smoke whenever he met a son
of Eblis; and the House of Talhook, and the House of Abdel-Malek and
a swarm of Elvasuds, and Elheires, and El Dahers, Emirs and Sheikhs on
their bounding steeds, and musketeers on foot, with their light jackets
and bare legs and wooden sandals, and black slaves, carrying vases and
tubes; everywhere a brilliant and animated multitude, and all mounting
the winding steep of Canobia.
The great court of the castle was crowded with men and horses, and fifty
mouths at once were drinking at the central basin; the arcades were full
of Sheikhs, smoking and squatted on their carpets, which in general they
had spread in this locality in preference to the more formal saloons,
whose splendid divans rather embarrassed them; though even these
chambers were well attended, the guests principally seated on the marble
floors covered with their small bright carpets. The domain immediately
around the castle was also crowded with human beings. The moment anyone
arrived, his steed was stabled or picketed; his attendants spread his
carpet, sought food for him, which was promptly furnished, with coffee
and sherbets, and occasionally wine; and when he had sufficiently
refreshed himself, he lighted his nargileh.
Everywhere there was a murmur, but no uproar; a stir, but no tumult. And
what was most remarkable amid these spears and sabres, these muskets,
handjars, and poniards, was the sweet and perpetually recurring Syrian
salutation of ‘Peace.’
Fakredeen, moving about in an immense turban, of the most national and
unreformed style, and covered with costly shawls and arms flaming with
jewels, recognised and welcomed everyone. He accosted Druse and Maronite
with equal cordiality, talked much with Said Djinblat, whom he specially
wished to gain, and lent one of his choicest steeds to the Djezbek, that
he might not be offended. The Talhook and the Abdel-Malek could not be
jealous of the Habeish and the Eldadah. He kissed the hand of Bishop
Nicodemus, but then he sent his own nargileh to the Emir Ahmet Raslan,
who was Caimacam of the Druses.
In this strange and splendid scene, Tancred, dressed in a velvet
shooting-jacket built in St. James’ Street and a wide-awake which had
been purchased at Bellamont market, and leaning on a rifle which was the
masterpiece of Purday, was not perhaps the least interesting personage.
The Emirs and Sheikhs, notwithstanding the powers of dissimulation for
which the Orientals are renowned, their habits of self-restraint, and
their rooted principle never to seem surprised about anything, have a
weakness in respect to arms. After eyeing Tancred for a considerable
time with imperturbable countenances, Francis El Kazin sent to Fakredeen
to know whether the English prince would favour them by shooting an
eagle. This broke the ice, and Fakredeen came, and soon the rifle was in
the hands of Francis El Kazin. Sheikh Said Djinblat, who would have died
rather than have noticed the rifle in the hands of Tancred, could not
resist examining it when in the possession of a brother Sheikh. Kais
Shehaab, several Habeishes and Elda-dahs gathered round; exclamations
of wonder and admiration arose; sundry asseverations that God was great
followed.
Freeman and Trueman, who were at hand, were summoned to show their
lord’s double-barrelled gun, and his pistols with hair-triggers.
This they did, with that stupid composure and dogged conceit which
distinguish English servants in situations which must elicit from all
other persons some ebullition of feeling.
Exchanging between themselves glances of contempt at the lords of
Lebanon, who were ignorant of what everybody knows, they exhibited
the arms without the slightest interest or anxiety to make the Sheikhs
comprehend them; till Tancred, mortified at their brutality, himself
interfered, and, having already no inconsiderable knowledge of the
language of the country, though, from his reserve, Fakredeen little
suspected the extent of his acquirements, explained felicitously to
his companions the process of the arms; and then taking his rifle, and
stepping out upon the terrace, he levelled his piece at a heron which
was soaring at a distance of upwards of one hundred yards, and brought
the bird down amid the applause both of Maronite and Druse.
‘He is sent here, I understand,’ said Butros Keramy, ‘to ascertain
for the Queen of the English whether the country is in favour of the
Shehaabs. Could you believe it, but I was told yesterday at Deir el
Kamar, that the English consul has persuaded the Queen that even the
patriarch was against the Shehaabs?’
‘Is it possible?’ said Rafael Farah, a Maronite of the House
of Eldadah. ‘It must be the Druses who circulate these enormous
falsehoods.’
‘Hush!’ said Young Syria, in the shape of Francis El Kazin, ‘there is no
longer Maronite or Druse: we are all Syrians, we are brothers.’
‘Then a good many of my brothers are sons of Eblis,’ said Butros Keramy.
‘I hope he is not my father.’
‘Truly, I should like to see the mountain without the Maronite nation,’
said Rafael Farah. ‘That would be a year without rain.’
‘And mighty things your Maronite nation has done!’ rejoined Francis El
Kazin. ‘If there had been the Syrian nation instead of the Maronite
nation, and the Druse nation, and half a dozen other nations besides,
instead of being conquered by Egypt in 1832, we should have conquered
Egypt ourselves long ago, and have held it for our farm. We have done
mighty things truly with our Maronite nation!’
‘To hear an El Kazin speak against the Maronite nation!’ exclaimed
Rafael Farah, with a look of horror; ‘a natipn that has two hundred
convents!’
‘And a patriarch,’ said Butros Keramy, ‘very much respected even by the
Pope of Rome.’
‘And who were disarmed like sheep,’ said Francis.
‘Not because we were beaten,’ said Butros, who was brave enough.
‘We were persuaded to that,’ said Rafael.
‘By our monks,’ said Francis; ‘the convents you are so proud of.’
‘They were deceived by sons of Eblis,’ said Butros. ‘I never gave up
my arms. I have some pieces now, that, although they are not as fine
as those of the English prince, could pick a son of Eblis off behind a
rock, whether he be Egyptian or Druse.’
‘Hush!’ said Francis El Kazin. ‘You love our host, Butros; these are not
words that will please him----’
‘Or me, my children,’ said Bishop Nicodemus. ‘This is a great day for
Syria! to find the chiefs of both nations assembled at the castle of a
Shehaab. Why am I here but to preach peace and love? And Butros Keramy,
my friend, my dearly beloved brother Butros, if you wish to please the
patriarch, your uncle, who loves you so well, you will no longer call
Druses sons of Eblis.’
‘What are we to call them?’ asked Rafael Farah, pettishly.
‘Brothers,’ replied Bishop Nicodemus; ‘misguided, but still brothers.
This is not a moment for brawls, when the great Queen of the English has
sent hither her own brother to witness the concord of the mountain.’
Now arose the sound of tabors, beaten without any attempt at a tune, but
with unremitting monotony, then the baying of many hounds more distant.
There was a bustle. Many Sheikhs slowly rose; their followers rushed
about; some looked at their musket locks, some poised their pikes and
spears, some unsheathed their handjars, examined their edge, and then
returned them to their sheath. Those who were in the interior of the
castle came crowding into the great court, which, in turn, poured forth
its current of population into the table-land about the castle. Here,
held by grooms, or picketed, were many steeds. The mares of the Emir
Fakredeen were led about by his black slaves. Many of the Sheikhs,
mounted, prepared for the pastime that awaited them.
There was to be a grand chase in the oak forest, through part of which
Tancred had already travelled, and which spread over a portion of the
plain and the low hilly country that encompassed it. Three parties,
respectively led by the Emir Fakredeen, and the Caimacams of the two
nations, were to penetrate into this forest at different and distant
points, so that the sport was spread over a surface of many miles.
The heads of the great houses of both nations accompanied the Emir of
Canobia; their relatives and followers, by the exertions of Francis El
Kazin and Young Syria, were in general so disturbed that the Maronites
were under the command of the Emir Raslan, the Druse Caimacam, while the
Druses followed the Emir Hai-dar. This great hunting party consisted of
more than eight hundred persons, about half of whom were mounted, but
all were armed; even those who held the dogs in leash were entitled
to join in the sport with the same freedom as the proudest Sheikh. The
three leaders having mounted and bowed gracefully to each other, the
cavalcades separated and descended into the plain. The moment they
reached the level country, the horsemen shouted and dispersed, galloping
in all directions, and many of them throwing their spears; but, in a
short time, they had collected again under their respective leaders, and
the three distinct bodies, each a moving and many-coloured mass, might
be observed from the castled heights, each instant diminishing in size
and lustre, until they vanished at different points in the distance, and
were lost amid the shades of the forest.
For many hours throughout this region nothing was heard but the firing
of guns, the baying of hounds, the shouting of men; not a human being
was visible, except some groups of women in the villages, with veils
suspended on immense silver horns, like our female headgear of the
middle ages. By-and-by, figures were seen stealing forth from the
forest, men on foot, one or two, then larger parties; some reposed on
the plain, some returned to the villages, some re-ascended the winding
steeps of Canobia. The firing, the shouting, the baying had become more
occasional. Now a wearied horseman picked his slow way over the plain;
then came forth a brighter company, still bounding along. And now they
issued, but slowly and in small parties, from various and opposite
quarters of the woodland. A great detachment, in a certain order, were
then observed to cross the plain, and approach the castle. They advanced
very gradually, for most of them were on foot, and joining together,
evidently carried burdens; they were preceded and followed by a guard
of cavalry. Soon it might be perceived that the produce of the chase was
arriving: twenty-five wild boars carried on litters of green branches;
innumerable gazelles borne by their victors; transfixed by four spears,
and carried by four men, a hyena.
Not very long after this caravan had reached the castle, the firing,
which had died away, recommenced; the sounds were near at hand; there
was a volley, and almost simultaneously there issued from various parts
of the forest the great body of the hunt. They maintained no order on
their return, but dispersed over the plain, blending together, galloping
their steeds, throwing their lances, and occasionally firing a shot.
Fakredeen and his immediate friends rode up to the Caimacam of the
Druses, and they offered each other mutual congratulations on the sport
of the morning. They waited for the Caimacam of the Maronites, who,
however, did not long detain them; and, when he appeared, their suites
joined, and, cantering off at a brisk pace, they soon mounted in company
the winding steeps of Canobia.
The kitchen of Canobia was on a great scale, though simple as it was
vast. It was formed for the occasion. About fifty square pits, some four
feet in length, and about half as deep, had been dug on the table-land
in the vicinity of the castle. At each corner of each pit was a stake,
and the four supported a rustic gridiron of green wood, suspended over
each pit, which was filled with charcoal, and which yielded an equal
and continuous heat to the animal reposing on the gridiron: in some
instances a wild boar, in others a sheep--occasionally a couple of
gazelles. The sheep had been skinned, for there had been time for the
operation; but the game had only been split open, cleared out, and laid
on its back, with its feet tied to each of the stakes, so as to retain
its position. While this roasting was going on, they filled the stomachs
of the animals with lemons gashed with their daggers, and bruised
pomegranates, whose fragrant juice, uniting with the bubbling fat,
produced an aromatic and rosy gravy. The huntsmen were the cooks, but
the greatest order was preserved; and though the Emirs and the great
Sheikhs, heads of houses, retiring again to their divans, occupied
themselves with their nargilehs, many a mookatadgi mixed with the
servants and the slaves, and delighted in preparing this patriarchal
banquet, which indeed befitted a castle and a forest. Within the walls
they prepared rice, which they piled on brazen and pewter dishes,
boiled gallons of coffee, and stewed the liver of the wild boars and the
gazelles in the golden wine of Lebanon.
The way they dined was this. Fakredeen had his carpet spread on the
marble floor of his principal saloon, and the two Caimacams, Tancred
and Bishop Nicodemus, Said Djinblat, the heads of the Houses of Djezbek,
Talhook, and Abdel-Malek, Hamood Abune-ked, and five Maronite chieftains
of equal consideration, the Emirs of the House of Shehaab, the Habeish,
and the Eldadah, were invited to sit with him. Round the chamber which
opened to the air, other chieftains were invited to spread their
carpets also; the centre was left clear. The rest of the Sheikhs and
rhookatadgis established themselves in small parties, grouped in the
same fashion, in the great court and under the arcades, taking care to
leave free egress and regress to the fountain. The retainers feasted,
when all was over, in the open air.
Every man found his knife in his girdle, forks were unknown. Fakredeen
prided himself on his French porcelain, which the Djinblats, the
Talhooks, and the Abunekeds glanced at very queerly. This European
luxury was confined to his own carpet. There was, however, a
considerable supply of Egyptian earthenware, and dishes of pewter and
brass. The retainers, if they required a plate, found one in the large
flat barley cake with which each was supplied. For the principal guests
there was no want of coarse goblets of Bohemian glass; delicious
water abounded in vases of porous pottery, which might be blended, if
necessary, with the red or white wine of the mountain. The rice, which
had been dressed with a savoury sauce, was eaten with wooden spoons
by those who were supplied with these instruments; but in general the
guests served themselves by handfuls.
Ten men brought in a framework of oaken branches placed transversely,
then covered with twigs, and over these, and concealing everything, a
bed, fully an inch thick, of mulberry leaves. Upon this fragrant bier
reposed a wild boar; and on each side of him reclined a gazelle. Their
bodies had closed the moment their feet had been loosened from the
stakes, so that the gravy was contained within them. It required a most
skilful carver not to waste this precious liquid. The chamber was filled
with an invigorating odour as the practised hand of Habas of Deir el
Kamar proceeded to the great performance. His instruments were a silver
cup, a poniard, and a handjar. Making a small aperture in the side of
the animal, he adroitly introduced the cup, and proportionately baled
out the gravy to a group of plates that were extended to him; then,
plunging in the long poniard on which he rested, he made an incision
with the keen edge and broad blade of the handjar, and sent forth slice
after slice of white fat and ruby flesh.
The same ceremony was performing in the other parts of the castle.
Ten of the pits had been cleared of their burden to appease the first
cravings of the appetite of the hunters. The fires had been replenished,
the gridirons again covered, and such a supply kept up as should not
only satisfy the chieftains, but content their followers. Tancred could
not refrain from contrasting the silent, business-like way in which the
Shehaabs, the Talhooks, the Djinblats, and the Habeish performed the
great operation that was going on, with the conversation which is
considered an indispensable accompaniment of a dinner in Fran-guestan;
for we must no longer presume to call Europe by its beautiful oriental
name of Christendom. The Shehaabs, the Talhooks, the Djinblats, and the
Habeish were sensible men, who were of opinion that if you want to talk
you should not by any means eat, since from such an attempt at a united
performance it generally results that you neither converse nor refresh
yourself in a satisfactory manner.
There can be no question that, next to the corroding cares of Europeans,
principally occasioned by their love of accumulating money which they
never enjoy, the principal cause of the modern disorder of dyspepsia
prevalent among them is their irrational habit of interfering with the
process of digestion by torturing attempts at repartee, and racking
their brain at a moment when it should be calm, to remind themselves of
some anecdote so appropriate that they have forgotten it. It has been
supposed that the presence of women at our banquets has occasioned this
fatal and inopportune desire to shine; and an argument has been founded
on this circumstance in favour of their exclusion from an incident
which, on the whole, has a tendency to impair that ideal which they
should always study and cherish. It may be urged that if a woman eats
she may destroy her spell; and that, if she will not eat, she destroys
our dinner.
Notwithstanding all this, and without giving any opinion on this latter
point, it should be remembered that at dinners strictly male, where
there is really no excuse for anything of the kind, where, if you are
a person of ascertained position, you are invited for that position
and for nothing else, and where, if you are not a person of ascertained
position, the more agreeable you make yourself the more you will be
hated, and the less chance you will have of being asked there again,
or anywhere else, still this fatal frenzy prevails; and individuals are
found who, from soup to coffee, from egg to apple, will tell anecdotes,
indulge in jests, or, in a tone of levity approaching to jesting, pour
forth garrulous secret history with which everyone is acquainted, and
never say a single thing which is new that is not coolly invented for
the occasion.
The princes of the Houses of Shehaab, Kais, and Assaad, and Abdullah,
the Habeish and the Eldadah, the great Houses of the Druses, the
Djinblat and the Yezbek, the Abuneked, the Talhook, and the Abdel-Malek,
were not of this school. Silently, determinedly, unceasing, unsatiated,
they proceeded with the great enterprise on which they had embarked. If
the two nations were indeed to be united, and form a great whole
under the sceptre of a Shehaab, let not this banquet pass like the
hypocritical hospitality of ordinary life, where men offer what they
desire not to be accepted by those who have no wish to receive. This, on
the contrary, was a real repast, a thing to be remembered. Practice
made the guests accustomed to the porcelain of Paris and the goblets of
Prague. Many was the goodly slice of wild boar, succeeded by the
rich flesh of the gazelle, of which they disposed. There were also
wood-pigeons, partridges, which the falconers had brought down, and
quails from the wilderness. At length they called again for rice, a
custom which intimated that their appetite for meat was satisfied, and
immediately Nubian slaves covered them with towels of fine linen fringed
with gold, and, while they held their hands over the basin, poured sweet
waters from the ewer.
In the meantime, Butros Keramy opened his heart to Rafael Farah.
‘I begin,’ said Butros, quaffing a cup of the Vino d’Oro, ‘to believe in
nationality.’
‘It cannot be denied,’ said Rafael Farah, judiciously shaking his head,
‘that the two nations were once under the same prince. If the great
powers would agree to a Shehaab, and we could sometimes meet together in
the present fashion, there is no saying, prejudices might wear off.’
‘Shall it ever be said that I am of the same nation as Hamood Abuneked?’
said Butros.
‘Ah! it is very dreadful,’ said Rafael; ‘a man who has burned convents!’
‘And who has five hundred Maronite horns in his castle,’ said Butros.
‘But suppose he restores them?’ said Francis El Kazin.
‘That would make a difference,’ said Rafael Farah.
‘There can be no difference while he lives,’ said Butros.
‘I fear ‘tis an affair of blood,’ said Rafael Farah.
‘Taking horns was never an affair of blood,’ said Francis El Kazin.
‘What should be an affair of blood,’ said Butros, ‘if----’
‘But nothing else but taking horns can be proved,’ said Francis El
Kazin.
‘There is a good deal in that!’ said Rafael Farah.
After confectionery which had been prepared by nuns, and strong waters
which had been distilled by the hands of priors, the chieftains praised
God, and rose, and took their seats on the divan, when immediately
advanced a crowd of slaves, each bearing a nargileh, which they
presented to the guests. Then gradually the conversation commenced. It
was entirely confined to the exploits of the day, which had been rich in
the heroic feats of forest huntsmen. There had been wild boars, too,
as brave as their destroyers; some slight wounds, some narrow escapes.
Sheikh Said Djinblat inquired of Lord Montacute whether there were
hyenas in England, but was immediately answered by the lively and
well-informed Kais Shehaab, who apprised him that there were only lions
and unicorns. Bishop Nicodemus, who watched the current of observations,
began telling hunting stories of the time of the Emir Bescheer, when
that prince resided at his splendid castle of Bteddeen, near Deir el
Kamar. This was to recall the days when the mountain had only one ruler,
and that ruler a Shehaab, and when the Druse lords were proud to be
classed among his most faithful subjects.
In the meantime smoking had commenced throughout the castle, but this
did not prevent the smokers from drinking raki as well as the sober
juice of Mocha. Four hundred men, armed with nargileh or chibouque,
inhaling and puffing with that ardour and enjoyment which men, after
a hard day’s hunting, and a repast of unusual solidity, can alone
experience! Without the walls, almost as many individuals were feasting
in the open air; brandishing their handjars as they cut up the huge
masses of meat before them, plunging their eager hands into the enormous
dishes of rice, and slaking their thirst by emptying at a draught a vase
of water, which they poured aloft as the Italians would a flask of wine
or oil.
‘And the most curious thing,’ said Freeman to Trueman, as they
established themselves under a pine tree, with an ample portion of roast
meat, and armed with their traveling knives and forks, ‘and the most
curious thing is, that they say these people are Christians! Who ever
heard of Christians wearing turbans?’
‘Or eating without knives and forks?’ added True-man.
‘It would astonish their weak minds in the steward’s room at Bellamont,
if they could see all this, John,’ said Mr. Freeman, pensively. ‘A man
who travels has very great advantages.’
‘And very great hardships too,’ said Trueman. ‘I don’t care for work,
but I do like to have my meals regular.’
‘This is not bad picking, though,’ said Mr. Freeman; ‘they call it
gazelle, which I suppose is the foreign for venison.’
‘If you called this venison at Bellamont,’ said Trueman, ‘they would
look very queer in the steward’s room.’
‘Bellamont is Bellamont, and this place is this place, John,’ said Mr.
Freeman. ‘The Hameer is a noble gentleman, every inch of him, and I
am very glad my lord has got a companion of his own kidney. It is much
better than monks and hermits, and low people of that sort, who are not
by no means fit company for somebody I could mention, and might turn him
into a papist into the bargain.’
‘That would be a bad business,’ said Trueman; ‘my lady could never abide
that. It would be better that he should turn Turk.’
‘I am not sure it wouldn’t,’ said Mr. Freeman. ‘It would be in a manner
more constitutional. The Sultan of Turkey may send an Ambassador to our
Queen, but the Pope of Rome may not.’
‘I should not like to turn Turk,’ said Trueman, very thoughtfully.
‘I know what you are thinking of, John,’ said Mr. Freeman, in a serious
tone. ‘You are thinking, if anything were to happen to either of us in
this heathen land, where we should get Christian burial.’
‘Lord love you, Mr. Freeman, no, I wasn’t. I was thinking of a glass of
ale.’
‘Ah!’ sighed Freeman, ‘it softens the heart to think of such things away
from home, as we are. Do you know, John, there are times when I feel
very queer, there are indeed. I catched myself a singing “Sweet Home”
one night, among those savages in the wilderness. One wants consolation,
John, sometimes, one does, indeed; and, for my part, I do miss the
family prayers and the home-brewed.’
As the twilight died away, they lighted immense bonfires, as well to
cheer them during their bivouac, as to deter any adventurous panther,
stimulated by the savoury odours, or hyena, breathing fraternal revenge,
from reconnoitring their encampment. By degrees, however, the noise
of the revellers without subsided, and at length died away. Having
satisfied their hunger, and smoked their chibouques, often made from the
branch which they had cut since their return from hunting, with the bud
still alive upon the fresh green tube, they wrapped themselves in their
cloaks and sheepskins, and sunk into a deep and well-earned repose.
Within, the Sheikhs and mookatadgis gradually, by no means
simultaneously, followed their example. Some, taking off their turbans
and loosening their girdles, ensconced themselves under the arcades,
lying on their carpets, and covered with their pelisses and cloaks; some
strolled into the divaned chambers, which were open to all, and more
comfortably stowed themselves upon the well-stuffed cushions; others,
overcome with fatigue and their revel, were lying in deep sleep,
outstretched in the open court, and picturesque in the blazing
moonlight.
The hunting party was to last three days, and few intended to leave
Canobia on the morrow; but it must not be supposed that the guests
experienced any very unusual hardships in what the reader may consider a
far from satisfactory mode of passing their night. To say nothing of the
warm and benignant climate, the Easterns have not the custom of retiring
or rising with the formality of the Occidental nations. They take their
sleep when they require it, and meet its embrace without preparation.
One cause of this difference undoubtedly is, that the Orientals do not
connect the business of the toilet with that of rest. The daily bath,
with its elaborate processes, is the spot where the mind ponders on the
colour of a robe or the fashion of a turban; the daily bath, which is
the principal incident of Oriental habits, and which can scarcely be
said to exist among our own.
Fakredeen had yielded even his own chambers to his friends. Every divan
in Canobia was open, excepting the rooms of Tancred. These were sacred,
and the Emir had requested his friend to receive him as a guest during
the festival, and apportion him one of his chambers. The head of the
House of Talhook was asleep with the tube of his nargileh in his mouth;
the Yezbek had unwound his turban, cast off his sandals, wrapped himself
in his pelisses, and fairly turned in; Bishop Nicodemus was kneeling
in a corner and kissing a silver cross; and Hamood Abu-neked had rolled
himself up in a carpet, and was snoring as if he were blowing through
one of the horns of the Maronites. Fakredeen shot a glance at Tancred,
instantly recognised. Then, rising and giving the salaam of peace to
his guests, the Emir and his English friend made their escape down a
corridor, at the bottom of which was one of the few doors that could be
found in the castle of Canobia. Baroni received them, on the watch
lest some cruising Sheikh should appropriate their resting-place. The
young-moon, almost as young and bright as it was two months before at
Gaza, suffused with lustre the beautiful garden of fruit and flowers
without. Under the balcony, Baroni had placed a divan with many
cushions, a lamp with burning coffee, and some fresh nargilehs.
‘Thank God, we are alone!’ exclaimed Fakredeen. ‘Tell me, my Tancred,
what do you think of it all?’