I
have tried the interior of the Moorish n'zalas, where all too frequently
you must lie on unimagined filth, often almost within reach of
camel-drivers and muleteers, who are so godly that they have no time to be
clean, and I have concluded that the drawbacks outweigh the advantages.
Now I pitch my tent on some cleaner spot, and pay guards from the village
to stretch their blankets under its lee and go to sleep. If there are
thieves abroad the zariba will not keep them out, and if there are no
thieves a tired traveller may forget his fatigue.
On the road we meet few wayfarers, and those we encounter are full of
suspicion. Now and again we pass some country kaid or khalifa out on
business. As many as a dozen well-armed slaves and retainers may follow
him, and, as a rule, he rides a well-fed Barb with a fine crimson saddle
and many saddle cloths. Over his white djellaba is a blue selham that
came probably from Manchester; his stirrups are silver or plated. He
travels unarmed and seldom uses spurs--a packing needle serves as an
effective substitute. When he has spurs they are simply spear-heads--sharp
prongs without rowels. The presence of Unbelievers in the country of the
True Faith is clearly displeasing to him, but he is nearly always diplomat
enough to return my laboured greeting, though doubtless he curses me
heartily enough under his breath.
Pages:
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67