Part 15

A good horse in the desert ought to accomplish for five or six days, one after the other, distances of twenty-five to thirty leagues. After a couple of day's rest, if well fed, he will be quite fresh enough to repeat the feat. "With a horse that on arriving at a resting place shakes himself, paws the ground with his foot, and neighs at the approach of the barley, then pushing his head into the nosebag begins to munch eagerly three or four mouthfuls of the grain, there is no occasion to pull up in a journey." The distances to be traversed in the Sahara are not always of such great length, but at the same time it is no very rare occurrence to hear of horses doing fifty to sixty leagues in four and twenty hours.

A tribe on receiving notice that its enemies project a razzia, at once sends out scouts (shouâfin) to watch them, mounted on mares, "the children of a Jew"—benate el ihoude—so cunning and dexterous are they. These horsemen take with them no more than a feed of barley for their horse's supper. They frequently vary their pace but are always careful to husband their steeds, and will place themselves in ambush thirty leagues from their point of departure in order to "kill the earth"—that is, to reconnoitre. If the result of their observations causes them to entertain any immediate apprehension for the safety of their brethren, they return at once at full speed to warn them to take to hasty flight. In the contrary event, they retrace their steps leisurely and will yet gain their tents before the hour of the evening prayer, after having traversed sometimes fifty to sixty leagues in the twenty-four hours. Should there be a skirmish on the morrow, their horses will be in a condition to take part in it. If the horse of a shouaf happens to die in the course of a reconnaissance made for the good of all, it is replaced at the expense of the whole tribe.

With regard to the great distances accomplished by the horses of the desert, instances may be quoted which will appear incredible, and the heroes of which are still alive, if witnesses were wanted to confirm the truth of the story. Here is one of a thousand, which was told to me by a man of the tribe of Arbâa. I give his own words:

"I had come into the Tell with my father and the people of my tribe to buy corn. It was in the time of the Pasha Ali. The Arbâa had had some terrible quarrels with the Turks, and as it was their interest for the moment to feign a complete submission in order to obtain an amnesty for the past, they agreed to win over by presents of money the Pasha's suite, and to send to himself not merely a common animal as was customary, but a courser of the highest distinction. It was a misfortune, but it was the will of Allah, and we were forced to resign ourselves. The choice fell upon a mare "gray stone of the river," known throughout the Sahara, and the property of my father. He was informed that he must hold himself in readiness to set out with her on the morrow for Algiers. After the evening prayer my father, who had taken care not to make any remark, came to me and said: 'Ben-Zyan, art thou thyself to-day? Wilt thou leave thy father in a strait, or wilt thou make red his face?'"

"I am nothing but your will, my lord," I replied. "Speak, and if your commands are not obeyed, it will be because I am vanquished by death."

"Listen. These children of sin seek to take my mare in the hope of settling their affairs with the Sultan, my gray mare, I say, which has always brought good fortune to my tent, to my children, and the camels: my gray mare, that was foaled on the day that thy youngest brother was born! Speak! Wilt thou let them do this dishonour to my hoary beard? The joy and happiness of the family are in thy hands. Mordjana (such was the name of the mare) has eaten her barley. If thou art of a truth my son, go and sup, take thy arms, and then at earliest nightfall flee far away into the desert with the treasure dear to us all."

"Without answering a word I kissed my father's hand, took my evening repast, and quitted Berouaguïa, happy in being able to prove my filial affection, and laughing in my sleeve at the disappointment which awaited our sheikhs on their awaking. I pushed forward for a long time, fearing to be pursued, but Mordjana continued to pull at her bridle and I had more trouble to quiet her than to urge her on. When two-thirds of the night had passed, and a desire to sleep was growing upon me, I dismounted and seizing the reins twisted them round my wrist. I placed my gun under my head and at last fell asleep, softly couched on one of those dwarf palms so common in our country. An hour afterwards I roused myself. All the leaves of the dwarf palm had been stripped off by Mordjana. We started afresh. The peep of day found us at Souagui. My mare had thrice broken out into a sweat, and thrice dried herself. I touched her with the heel. She watered at Sidi-Bou-Zid in the Ouad-Ettouyl, and that evening I offered up the evening prayer at Leghrouât, after giving her a handful of straw to induce her to wait patiently for the enormous bag of barley that was coming to her. These are not journeys fit for your horses," said Si-ben-Zyan in conclusion, "—for the horses of you Christians, who go from Algiers to Blidah, thirteen leagues, as far as from my nose to my ear, and then fancy you have done a good day's work."

This Arab, for his part, had done eighty leagues in twenty-four hours: his mare had eaten nothing but the leaves of the dwarf palm on which he had lain down and had only once been watered, about the middle of the journey; and yet he swore to me by the head of the Prophet that he could have slept on the following night at Gardaya, forty five leagues farther on, had his life been in any danger. Si-ben-Zyan belongs to a family of marabouts of the Oulad-Salahh, a section of the great tribe of the Arbâa. He comes frequently to Algiers and will tell this story to whoever will listen to him, confirming his narrative, if required, by authentic testimony.

Another Arab, named Mohammed-ben-Mokhtar, had come to buy corn in the Tell after the harvest. His tents were already pitched on Ouad-Seghrouan, and he had opened a business communication with the Arabs of the Tell, when the bey Bou-Mezrag, "father of the spear," fell upon him at the head of a strong body of cavalry to chastise one of those imaginary offences which the Turks were in the habit of inventing as pretexts for their rapacity. Not the slightest warning had been given; the razzia was complete; and the horsemen of Makhzen gave themselves up to all the atrocities customary in such cases. Mohammed-ben-Mokhtar thereupon threw himself on his dark bay mare, a magnificent animal known and coveted throughout the Sahara, and perceiving the critical nature of the situation, at once resolved to sacrifice the whole of his property to save the lives of his three children. One of them, only four years old, he placed on the saddle before him, and another aged six or seven behind him holding on by the troussequin, and was about to place the youngest in the hood of his burnous when his wife stopped him, exclaiming: "No, no, I will not let thee have this one. They will never dare to slay an infant at its mother's breast. Away, I shall keep him with me. Allah will protect us." Mohammed-ben-Mokhtar then dashed forward, fired off his piece, and got clear of the mêlée; but, being hotly pursued, he travelled all that day and the following night until he reached Leghrouât, where he could rely upon being in safety. Shortly afterwards he received intelligence that his wife had been rescued by some friends he had in the Tell. Mohammed-ben-Mokhtar and his wife are still alive, and the two children he carried on his saddle are spoken of as two of the best horsemen of the tribe. Can there be imagined a scene more dramatic, or more worthy of a skilful artist, than this family being saved by a horse from the midst of plunder, confusion, and fighting!

And why should I look for evidence to establish these facts? All the old officers of the Oran division can state how, in 1837, a General attaching the greatest importance to the receipt of intelligence from Tlemcen, gave his own charger to an Arab to go and procure the news. The latter set out from Château Neuf at four o'clock in the morning and returned at the same hour on the following day, having travelled seventy leagues over ground very different from the comparatively level desert.

One of the best and most formidable horsemen of this tribe of the Arbâa is El-Arby-ben-Ouaregla; "his ball never falls to the ground." He belongs to the section of the Hadjadj, among whom he is celebrated both by reason of his personal prowess and because of an adventure that befell him in his infancy. He was still at the breast, when his father, Mohammed-ben-Dokha, being surprised by the enemy, rolled him in his large habaya and fastened him in it with his girdle. Then, whilst his family and his flocks sought safety in flight, he mounted a mare that "could wring a tear from the eye," and fighting all day in the rearguard saved his property and killed seven of his assailants.

The Arabs of the Sahara sum up the perfection of a horse in the following manner. He must carry a full grown man, his arms and a change of clothing, food for both his rider and himself, a flag, even on a windy day, and if necessary, dragging a dead body behind him, keep up at a good pace the whole day through without giving a thought to food or water. In their opinion a horse lives from twenty to twenty-five years, and a mare from twenty-five to thirty. As to the service to be derived from this animal, a proverb exactly expresses their idea:

Sebâa el Khrouya, seven years for my Brother; Sebâa lya, seven years for myself; Sebâa li adouya, seven years for my enemy.

It is therefore from seven to fourteen that they consider a horse as most apt for the exercises of war. I have often had the curiosity to inquire of the Arabs if they know whence they had received the horses of which they were so proud. In reply to this question they would point with their finger to the East, and answer: "They come from the native country of the first man, where they were created a day or two before him." And as confirmation of this their belief, they would add: "Allah hath said: 'I have created for man whatsoever is upon the earth. I give it all to Adam and his descendants. Man shall be the most noble of created beings, and the horse the most noble of animals.' Now, when a chief is expected to come and rule over us we prepare a tent to receive him, carpets for him to sit upon, and various dishes to gratify his palate, and, above all, horsemen to attend upon him and execute his orders. Consequently the horse must have been created before the coming of Adam upon the earth."

THE STEED OF NOBLE RACE.

Where are those noble steeds Whose dam never knew any but a noble sire? The stirrup is their life; inaction is death to them. O Father of cavaliers! the ignorant find them every where, But they are as rare as true friends, And when they die the very saddle sheds tears.

In the race-course of valour May Allah bless the noble courser! His chest is of steel, and his flanks of iron: He loves naught but rapine, glory, and the combat; He cherishes his master and his family, And when he gallops, he puts the thunder to shame. He passes, look at him: he is already out of sight; Women, grudge him not the milk of our she-camels.

What has become of the time when I used to bestride a swimmer, With black eye, wide nostrils, Clean limbs, and a faithful heart! It was a sparrow-hawk for carnage, And life was nothing worth to me When the bridle was out of my hands. I was then young; I went in search of danger, I mocked at the ill-omened ravens; The distant always seemed to me close at hand, And my tent overflowed with plunder.

In summer, when sleep has restored strength to my body, When the eye of light has dispersed the shades of night, And when the heat bites everything, even into stone, The song of the turtle-dove fills me with soft desire. In the boughs of the palm-tree shaken by the slightest breeze, On the leaf that sighs and bewails itself, She is consumed with passion. By my head! she rekindles in my breast the fire of bygone days.

They said to me: Ah! thou art still longing for them who dye their eyelids with black? And I answered: No, in my eyes Nothing at present is equal to my horse of pure blood. With him, I bear myself proudly; I hunt and increase my riches; With him, I enter the strife and protect the poor and the orphan; With him, I chastise insult and daunt my rivals; His neigh is like the roar of a lion in the mountains; It is an eagle hovering in the air.

Away with you, fond memories of this world! The most potent has never carried off more than a winding-sheet. I am known by my air-drinker, at night and in the fight; I am known by my sabre, the shock of battle, the pen and the paper; I am sharper than a spear, and endure hunger like a wolf. No matter: to-day I court solitude: In solitude is happiness: age has taught me that. Never again shall men behold me seeking a horse, or the love of women, or the court of an Emir.

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REMARKS BY THE EMIR ABD-EL-KADER.

Horses, though they are all of one and the same family, are of two different species: the first is the Arab race, the other the race of the Beradin. In like manner oxen, though of only one family, are of divers species: the first that of domestic cattle, which is the best known, and the second that of buffaloes: as different from one another in agility and weight as are the Arab horses from the Beradin. In like manner, too, the family of camels is one, and yet includes more than one species,—the Arab race and the race Bakhati.

If the foal has for its sire an Arab horse, and for its dam an Arab mare, it is indisputably noble, hôor.

If it has for its sire an Arab horse, and for its dam a Beradi mare, it is called Hadjin.

If it has for its dam an Arab mare and for its sire a Beradi horse, it is called Meghrif, and it is inferior to the Hadjin.

Hence it will be seen that the most important rôle is assigned to the sire.