These Bedouins were the most interesting visitors to the Tuesday
market, and I was delighted when one of them recognised Salam as a friend.
The two had met in the days when an adventurous Scot set up in business at
Cape Juby in the extreme South, where I believe his Majesty Lebaudy the
First is now king.
The Saharowi was an exceedingly thin man, of wild aspect, with flowing
hair and scanty beard. His skin was burnt deep brown, and he was dressed
in a blue cotton garment of guinea cloth made in simplest fashion. He was
the chief of a little party that had been travelling for two months with
faces set toward the North. He reminded Salam of Sidi[51] Mackenzie, the
Scot who ruled Cape Juby, and how the great manager, whose name was known
from the fort to Tindouf, had nearly poisoned him by giving him bread to
eat when he was faint with hunger. These true Bedouins live on milk and
cheese, with an occasional piece of camel or goat flesh, and a rare taste
of mutton. When Salam's friend came starving to Cape Juby, Sidi Mackenzie
had given him bread. The hungry man ate some and at once became violently
ill, his stomach could not endure such solid fare. Having no milk in the
fort, they managed to keep him alive on rice-water.
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