ARABIAN HORSES.
THE modern Arabs have three breeds of horses, the Atteich, the Kadishi,
and the Kohlani. The two former are drudges, or hackneys; the Kohlani is
the thorough-bred race; and, according to the popular legend, is
descended from the favourite mares of the prophet. Mahomet, as the story
runs, was once engaged in battle for three days, during all which time
his warriors never dismounted, nor did their mares eat or drink. At
last, on the third day, they came to a river, and the prophet ordered
that the animals should be unbridled, and turned loose. Mad with thirst,
the whole ten thousand rushed headlong to the river, and just as they
were on the brink the prophet’s bugle sounded their recall. Ten thousand
mares heard the call, but five only obeyed it; and, leaving the water
untasted, returned to their standard. Then the prophet blessed these
docile mares, and adorned their eyelids with kohl, after the manner of
the women in the East; hence they were called Kohlani, which means
_blackened_. They were ridden from that time forth by the prophet
himself, and his companions, Ali, Omar, Abubekr, and Hassan, and from
them are descended all the noble steeds of Arabia.
The great excellence of the Arab horse is owing partly to the extreme
and undeviating care of the Bedouins to keep up the purity of the blood;
and partly to the friendly and familiar treatment the animal receives in
its master’s tent, where it is the pet of his children, and a watchful
observer of all his domestic concerns. The Bedouin’s mare (they never
ride horses) displays all the sagacity and fidelity of the dog; she will
never suffer her sleeping master to be surprised by his foes without a
warning. It is, therefore, no wonder that to obtain Arab mares, by
purchase, is a matter of extreme difficulty. The people of the Desert
themselves often give as much as £200 for a celebrated mare, not to be
sold to strangers. The sum of £500 has even been given; which,
considering the value of money in Arabia and Syria, is enormous.
Buckhardt mention a sheikh, who had a mare of great celebrity, for the
_half-share_ in the ownership of which he paid £400. This subdivision of
ownership is very curious. Sir John Malcolm was informed that the
property in a brood mare was sometimes divided amongst ten or twelve
Arabs.
In the Desert a mare of high breed is seldom sold without the seller
reserving the half, or two-thirds of her. If he sells half, the buyer
takes the mare, and is obliged to let the seller take the mare’s next
filly, or the buyer may keep the filly and return the mare. If the Arab
has sold but one-third of the mare, the purchaser takes her home, but
must give the seller the fillies of two years, or else one of them and
the mare. The fillies of all subsequent years belong to the buyer, as
well as all the male colts produced on the first or any following year.
It thus happens that most of the Arab mares are the joint property of
two or three persons, or even of half-a-dozen, if the price of the mare
be very high. A mare is sometimes sold on the remarkable condition, that
all the booty obtained by the man who rides her shall be shared between
him and the seller.
It is not among the Arabs alone we find horses, like ships, shared among
several owners: the same thing prevails in some parts of Ireland. An
amusing instance is mentioned in Lord George Hill’s “Facts from
Gwendore:”—“In an adjacent island, belonging to this estate, three men
were concerned in one horse; but the poor brute was rendered useless, as
the unfortunate foot of the supernumerary leg remained unshod, none of
them being willing to acknowledge its dependancy, and accordingly it
became quite lame. There were many intestine rows upon the subject; at
length one of the ‘company’ came to the main land and called on a
magistrate for advice, stating, that the animal was entirely useless
now; that he had not only kept decently his proper hoof, at his own
expense, but had shod this fourth foot twice to boot; yet the other two
proprietors resolutely refused _to shoe more than their own foot_.”
To steal a horse is reckoned in the Desert code of morals, a highly
honourable exploit, if the sufferer be a stranger, or a man of another
tribe, which means nearly the same thing as an enemy. Each tribe forms
as it were a distinct nation, occupying a certain tract of land, over
which it roams continually, in proportion as the pasture is exhausted by
the cattle. Now as the whole of this space is necessary for the annual
subsistence of the tribe, all who encroach on it are regarded as enemies
and robbers, and a war ensues. Events of this kind are of frequent
occurrence, and the manner of proceeding on the occasion is very simple.
The offence being made known, they mount their horses, and endeavour to
surprise the aggressors’ camp, and plunder their cattle. If they find
the enemy prepared to meet them, a parley ensues, and the matter is
frequently made up; otherwise they encounter each other at full speed
with fixed lances, which they sometimes dart, notwithstanding their
length, at the flying foe. The victory is rarely contested; it is
decided by the first shock; and the vanquished take to flight full
gallop over the naked plain of the Desert. Night generally favours their
escape from the conqueror. The tribe, which has lost the battle, strikes
its tents, removes to a distance by forced marches, and seeks an asylum
among its allies.
Boundless generosity, and insatiable covetousness, are strangely mingled
in the character of the sons of the Desert. Without wishing to justify
the Bedouin’s spirit of rapine, we may observe that it is displayed only
towards reputed enemies. Among themselves they are remarkable for a good
faith, a disinterestedness, a generosity that would do honour to the
most civilized people. What is there more noble than that right of
asylum so respected among all the tribes! A stranger, nay, even an
enemy, touches the tent of a Bedouin, and from that instant his person
becomes inviolable. It would be reckoned an indelible shame to satisfy
even a just vengeance at the expense of hospitality. If once the Bedouin
has eaten bread and salt with his guest nothing can induce him to betray
him.
A Bedouin, named Jabal, possessed a mare of great celebrity. Hassad
Pacha, then governor of Damascus, wished to buy the animal, and
repeatedly made the owner the most liberal offers, which Jabal steadily
refused. The pacha then had recourse to threats, but with no better
success. At length one Jafar, a Bedouin of another tribe, presented
himself to the pacha, and asked what would he give the man who should
make him master of Jabal’s mare. “I will fill his horse’s nosebag with
gold,” replied Hassad, whose pride and covetousness had been irritated
to the highest degree by the obstinacy of the mare’s owner. The result
of this interview having gone abroad, Jabal became more watchful than
ever; and always secured his mare at night with an iron chain, one end
of which was fastened round her hind fetlock, whilst the other, after
passing through the tent cloth, was attached to a picket driven into the
ground under the felt that served himself and his wife for a bed. But
one midnight Jafar crept into the tent, and, insinuating his body
between Jabal and his wife, he pressed gently now against the one, now
against the other, so that the sleepers made room for him right and
left, neither of them doubting that the pressure came from the other.
This being done, Jafar slit the felt with a sharp knife, drew out the
picket, loosed the mare, and sprang on her back. Just before starting
off with his prize, he caught up Jabal’s lance, and poking him with the
butt end, cried out, “I am Jafar! I have stolen your noble mare, and I
give you notice in time.” This warning, be it observed, was in
accordance with the usual practice of the Desert on such occasions: to
rob a hostile tribe is considered an honourable exploit, and the man who
accomplishes it is desirous of all the glory that may flow from the
deed. Poor Jabal, when he heard the words, rushed out of the tent and
gave the alarm; then mounting his brother’s mare, and accompanied by
some of his tribe, he pursued the robber for four hours. The brother’s
mare was of the same stock as Jabal’s, but was not equal to her;
nevertheless, she outstripped those of all the other pursuers, and was
even on the point of overtaking the robber, when Jabal shouted to him,
“Pinch her right ear, and give her a touch with the heel.” Jafar did so,
and away went the mare like lightning, speedily rendering all further
pursuit hopeless. The _pinch in the ear_ and the _touch with the heel_,
were the secret sign by which Jabal had been used to urge the mare to
her utmost speed. Every Bedouin trains the animal he rides, to obey some
sign of this kind, to which he has recourse only on urgent occasions,
and which he makes a close secret, not to be divulged even to his son.
Jabal’s comrades were amazed and indignant at his strange conduct; “O
thou father of a jackass!” they cried, “thou hast helped the thief to
rob thee of thy jewel!” But he silenced their upbraidings, by saying, “I
would rather lose her than sully her reputation. Would you have me
suffer it to be said among the tribes, that another mare had proved
fleeter than mine? I have at least this comfort left me, that I can say
she never met with her match.”
The trick of jockeyship above-mentioned, is not peculiar to the Desert;
we trace it even in the Western world. The celebrated clockmaker Sam
Slick, talking over a racing project, in which he expects to take in the
knowing ones, by deceiving them as to the fleetness of his favourite
horse, Clay, expresses himself thus: “Clay is as cunning as a ’coon
(racoon); if he don’t get the word g’lang (go along) and the Indgyan
skelpin’ yell with it, he knows I ain’t in airnest:—he’ll purtend to do
his best, and sputter away like a hen scratchin’ gravel, but he won’t go
one mossel faster.”
There was in the tribe of Negde a mare no less renowned than Jabal’s,
which Daher, a man of another tribe had bent his whole soul on
possessing. Having in vain offered his camels and all his wealth for
her, he determined to compass his ends by stratagem. He stained his face
with herbs, dressed himself in rags, and tied up his legs so as to give
himself the appearance of a crippled beggar. In this plight, he laid
himself down on a spot where he knew that Nabee, the owner of the mare,
would pass, and as soon as he saw him, he began to implore piteously for
help, saying, he was unable to move, and was dying of hunger. Nabee told
the poor wretch to mount behind him, and he would take him to his own
tent, and supply his wants. “May your bounty be extolled,” replied the
pretended cripple, “but I am unable to mount without assistance.”
Thereupon the compassionate Nabee dismounted, and with much difficulty
hoisted the suppliant into the saddle. As soon as Daher felt himself
firmly seated, he clapped heels to the mare and started off, shouting,
“I am Daher, and your mare is mine.” The plundered man called out to him
to stop, and hear what he had to say, and the thief, knowing he was safe
from pursuit, turned and halted, just out of reach of Nabee’s lance.
“You have seized my mare,” said the latter; “since it is the will of
Allah, I wish you prosperity, but I beseech you do not tell any one how
you came by her.” “And why not?” said Daher. “Because another person
might be really afflicted, and be left without succour. Were you to tell
the tale, the consequence would be, that no one would do a single act of
charity, for fear of being duped like me.”
Struck by these words, Daher instantly dismounted, restored the mare to
her owner, and embraced him. Nabee went home with him as his guest; they
remained together three days, and became sworn brothers.
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