Part 34

Thou wouldst have drawn in this balmy breath which doubles life, for it has not passed over the impurity of cities.

If, going out some splendid night, Cooled by an abundant dew, From the summit of a merkeb, Thou hadst cast thy eyes round thee, Thou wouldst have seen far away and on all sides troops of wild animals Browsing the fragrant shrubs. At that moment all care would have fled from before thee. Overflowing joy would have filled thy soul.

What a charm, too, in our hunting! At sunrise, Through us every day brings terror to the savage beast. And the day of the rahil, when our red haouadjej are fastened on our camels, Thou wouldst have said that a field of anemones were bedecking themselves, under the rain, with their richest colours.

Upon our haouadjej recline our virgins; Their taka are closed by houri eyes. The conductors of their animals raise their shrill chaunt; The tone of their voice finds the door of the soul.

We, swift as the air, on our generous coursers, The shelils waving over their croups, We give chace to the houache. We overtake the ghezal, that fancies itself far from us. It escapes not from our horses at full speed, With thin flanks. How many delim with their females became our prey! Although their running is not less rapid than the flight of other birds.

We return to our families at the hour of halt, On a new camping ground, free from pollution. The earth exhales the odour of musk, But purer than it, It has been cleansed by the rains Of evening and morning.

We pitch our tents in circular groups; The earth is covered with them, as is the firmament with stars. They of old time have said, who are no more, but our fathers have repeated it, And we say as they did, for truth is always truth: Two things are beautiful in this world, Beautiful verses and beautiful tents.

In the evening, our camels come up to us; At night the voice of the male is heard like distant thunder.

Light ships of the land, Safer than ships, For a ship is inconstant; Our maharis rival in speed the maha.

And our horses—is there a glory like unto theirs? Always saddled for the fight, When any one invokes our aid, They are the promise of victory. Our enemies have no place of refuge against our blows, For our coursers, celebrated by the Prophet, swoop upon them like the vulture.

Our coursers have the purest milk to drink, The milk of the camel, more precious than that of the cow.

Our first care is to divide the booty we have taken from the enemy. Equity presides at the distribution. Every one receives the due reward of his valour.

We have sold our rights of citizenship. We have no reason to regret the bargain. We have gained honour, of which the hader knows nothing. We are Kings. There is none to be compared with us. Is it life to undergo humiliation?

We suffer not the insults of the unjust. We leave him and his land. True happiness is in wandering life.

If contact with our neighbour annoys us, We withdraw from him—neither he, nor we, have anything to complain of.

What fault, then, hast thou to find with the bedoui? Nothing but his love of glory, and his liberality that knows no stint.

Under the tent, the fire of hospitality is kindled for the traveller. He finds, whoever he may be, a sure remedy against cold and hunger.

Ages have told of the salubrity of the Sahara. All disease and sickness dwell only beneath the roof of cities. In the Sahara, whoever is not reaped by the sword sees days without number; Our old men are the most aged of all men.

THE RAZZIA.

The most frequent and almost daily incident of Arab life is the razzia. Glory is a fine ting, no doubt, and in the Sahara hearts are as open to its fascination as elsewhere. But there, the idea of glory is to injure the enemy and destroy his resources, and at the same time augment one's own. Glory is not smoke, but plunder. The thirst for revenge is also a motive; but what vengeance is sweeter than to enrich oneself with the spoils of one's enemy? This threefold craving for glory, revenge, and plunder, could not possibly be gratified more promptly or efficaciously than by the razzia—the invasion by force or stratagem of the ground occupied by the foe, which contains all that is dear to him, his family and his fortune.

In the desert, there are three kinds of razzia. First of all there is the tehha ["the falling," from the verb tahh, "it is fallen"], which takes place at the fedjeur, or dawn of day. In a tehha, the object is not pillage, but massacre: no thought is given to riches, but all to vengeance. The next is the khrotefa, which comes off at el aasseur, or two or three in the afternoon, and means nothing but rapine. And lastly, the terbigue, which is neither war, nor an affair of brigandage, but, at most, a thievish operation. The terbigue is attempted at nous el leïl, or midnight. When a razzia is determined upon, those who propose to take part in it say to one another Rana akeud, "we are a knot." The enterprise is arranged, the association formed, and a compact concluded—compact of life and death.

THE TEHHA.

When a tehha is contemplated, the sheikh issues orders to shoe the horses, to prepare food, and to provide a supply of barley for five or six days, more or less. These provisions are put into a semmât, or wallet, each taking his own. Previous to setting out, two or three mounted scouts are sent forward to reconnoitre the position of the enemy they propose to attack. The scouts are men of intelligence, well mounted, acquainted with the country, and circumspect. They take every precaution and make a great circuit, so that in the event of a surprise, they will appear from a quarter whence those whom they intend to assail are accustomed to see only friends appear. On arriving near to their destination, they place themselves in ambush, and one of them, separating from the band, penetrates on foot to the very heart of the douar, without exciting the slightest suspicion. As soon as they have obtained the necessary information respecting the numbers and disposition of the enemy, they retrace their steps and rejoin the goum, who await them at a spot previously agreed upon. Like the scouts they, too, have followed a path little calculated to inspire with apprehension those whom they propose to surprise. All necessary intelligence having been obtained, and the foe being now near at hand, it is arranged to fall upon him at the dawn of day, because at that hour they will find

The wife without her girdle, And the mare without her bridle.

Before dashing into the mêlée, the leaders address to their followers a few impassioned words: "Listen. Let no one think of despoiling the women, driving off the horses, entering the tents, or alighting for purposes of plunder, before taking many lives. Bear in mind that we have to do with 'children of sin,' who will defend themselves vigourously. These people have butchered our brethren. No mercy! Kill! Kill! if you desire at the same time to take revenge and the goods of your enemies. I tell you again they will not give these up to you without a struggle." The goum then breaks up into three or four bands, with a view to strike terror into the assailed from several different quarters at the same time. As soon as they are within range they open fire, but not a cry is uttered until their fire-arms have made themselves heard.

These razzias are for the most part frightful scenes of carnage. The men, taken off their guard, are nearly all put to the sword, but the women are merely stripped of their clothing and jewels. If time permit, the victors carry off with them the tents, the negroes, the horses, and the flocks, leaving the women and the children, for in the desert no one ever burdens himself with prisoners. On their return the flocks are committed to the custody of a few horsemen, while the others form themselves into a strong rearguard to cover the retreat. On reaching the douar, the combatants divide among themselves the flocks and the booty captured without personal risk, and give to the sheikh, over and above his share, thirty or forty ewes, or three or four camels, as the case may be, besides bestowing a special gratuity on the horsemen who were sent forward as scouts.

Previous to attempting an enterprise of this kind each tribe places itself under the protection of a particular marabout to whom it is in the habit of applying in difficult circumstances. In the eyes of the Saharene, to plunder an enemy, though an incident of no uncommon occurrence, is an affair by no means devoid of solemnity. It is thus that the tribe of the Arbâa regard as their regular and accredited marabout Sidi-Hamed-ben-Salem-Ould-Tedjiny. A successful razzia is celebrated by great rejoicings. In each tent an ouadâa, or feast, is prepared in honour of the marabouts, to which are invited the poor, the tolbas, or men of letters, the widows, the farriers, and the free negroes.

The tehha is usually achieved with five or six hundred horses, and not unfrequently foot-soldiers accompany the expedition, mounted on camels. Sometimes the tribe that is to be attacked has received timely warning, and been able to adopt measures for defence. The horses are saddled, the arms ready to the hand. A combat takes place, instead of a massacre, and many fall on both sides. The assailants, however, have usually the advantage, as they are not embarrassed with women and children like their adversaries; and it rarely happens that they return home without booty.