We resumed our march through a dry, rolling country, grown with thorns, acacias in flower, and occasional doum-trees. Beyond the Nile, whose current was no longer to be seen, stretched the long mountain of Berber, which we first discerned the day previous, when crossing the rise of the Wady el-homar. The opposite bank was a sea of vivid green, as far as the eye could reach. Near the water the bean and lupin flourished in thick clusters; behind them extended fields of cotton, of a rich, dark foliage; and still beyond, tall ranks of dourra, heavy with ripening heads. Island-like groups of date-trees and doum-palms studded this rich bed of vegetation, and the long, blue slope of the mountain gave a crowning charm to the landscape. As we approached the capital of Berber, the villages on our right became more frequent, but our path still lay over the dry plain, shimmering with the lakes of the mirage. We passed a score of huge vultures, which had so gorged themselves with the carcase of a camel, that they could scarcely move out of our way. Among them were several white hawks, a company of crows, and one tall black stork, nearly five feet in height, which walked about with the deliberate pace of a staid clergyman. Flocks of quail rose before our very feet, and a large gray dove, with a peculiar cooing note, was very abundant on the trees.
My shaytan of a guide, Eyoub, wanted to stop at a village called El Khassa, which we reached at two o’clock. El Mekheyref, he said, was far ahead, and we could not get there; he would give us a sheep for our dinner; the Effendi must prove his hospitality (but all at the Effendi’s expense), and many other weighty reasons — but it would not do. I pushed on ahead, made inquiries of the natives, and in two hours saw before me the mud fortress of El Mekheyref. The camel-men, who were very tired, from the long walk from Korosko, would willingly have stopped at El Khassa, but when I pointed out Berber, and Achmet told them they could not deceive me, for I had the truth written in a book, they said not a word.
We entered the town, which was larger, cleaner and handsomer than any place I had seen since leaving Siout. Arnaout soldiers were mixed with the Arabs in the streets, and we met a harem of Cairene ladies taking a walk, under the escort of two eunuchs. One of them stopped and greeted us, and her large black eyes sparkled between the folds of her veil as she exclaimed, in great apparent delight: “Ah, I know you come from Cairo!” I passed through the streets, found a good place for my tent on the high bank above the water, and by an hour before sunset was comfortably encamped. I gave the men their backsheesh—forty-seven piastres in all, with which they were well satisfied, and they then left for the tents of their tribe, about two hours distant. I gave Eesa some trinkets for his bride, which he took with “God reward you!” pressed my hand to his lips, and then went with them.
CHAPTER XVI.
MY RECEPTION IN BERBER.
A Wedding—My Reception by the Military Governor—Achmet—The Bridegroom—A Guard—I am an American Bey—Kèff—The Bey’s Visit—The Civil Governor—About the Navy—The Priest’s Visit—Riding in State—The Dongolese Stallion—A Merchant’s House—The Town—Dinner at the Governor’s—The Pains of Royalty—A Salute to the American Flag—Departure.
I was sitting at my tent-door at dusk, after a luxurious dinner of fowls and melons, when we suddenly heard a great sound of drums and Arab singing, with repeated discharges of musketry. The people told us that a marriage was being celebrated, and proposed that I should go and take part in the festivities. I therefore partly resumed my Frank dress, and told Achmet that he must no longer represent me as a Turk, since, in the conquered countries of Soudân the ruling race is even more unpopular than the Franks. “Well, master,” said he; “but I must at least make you an American Bey, because some rank is necessary in these countries.” He took a lantern, and we set out, in the direction of the noises.
As we passed the mosque, a priest informed us that the wedding was at the Governor’s house, and that the bridegroom was the son of a former Governor’s wekeel, or deputy. The drums guided us to a spacious court-yard, at the door of which stood guards in festive dresses. The court was lighted by a large open brazier of charcoal, fastened on the end of a high pole, and by various colored lanterns. Long benches were ranged across the central space, facing the Governor’s mansion, and upon them sat many of the inhabitants of the town, listening to the music. The Arnaout soldiers, in their picturesque dresses, were squatted around the walls, their yataghans and long guns gleaming in the moonlight. The musicians sat on a raised platform, beside the steps leading to the door. There were half a dozen drums, some Arab flutes, and a chorus of strong-lunged singers, who chanted a wild, barbaric epithalamium, in perfect time and accord. The people all saluted us respectfully, and invited us to enter. The Albanian guards ushered us into a lofty room, roofed with palm-logs, which were carefully chosen for their size and straightness. A broad, cushioned divan ran around two sides of the apartment. Here sat the military Governor, with his principal officers, while richly-dressed soldiers stood in waiting. An immense glass lantern gave light to this striking picture.
The Governor, who was called Yagheshir Bey (although he held the lower rank of a Sanjak), was an Albanian, and commander of the Egyptian troops in Berber and Shendy. He received me with great kindness, and made room for me beside him on the divan. He was a tall, stately man, about fifty years of age; his face was remarkably handsome, with a mild, benevolent expression, and he had the manners of a finished gentleman. On my left hand was one of his officers, also a tall, fur-capped Albanian. I presented both of the dignitaries with cigars, for which they seemed to have a great relish. Coffee soon appeared, served by negro slaves, in rich blue dresses, and then the Bey’s shebook, with a mouth-piece studded with diamonds, was filled for me. The slaves presently returned, with large glass cups filled with delicious sherbet, which they offered upon gold-fringed napkins. Achmet, being seated on the other side of the Governor, was mistaken by the attendants for the American Bey, notwithstanding his dark complexion, and served first. I could not but admire the courtly ease of his manners, which belonged rather to the born son of a Pasha than to the poor orphan-boy of Luxor, indebted only to his honesty, quick sense, and the kindness of an English lady, for a better fate than that of the common Fellahs of Egypt. Yet with all the respect which he knew so well how to command, his devotion to me, as a servant, was unchanged, and he was as unremitting in his attentions as if soul and body had been given him expressly for my use.
The Bey, learning that I was bound for Khartoum, sent a soldier for the shekh of the harbor, whom he commanded, in my presence, to procure a boat for me, and see that it was ready to sail the next day. The only boats in this region are rough, open crafts, but the shekh promised to erect a tent of palm-mats on the poop, to serve as a cabin. Soon after he left the bridegroom appeared, led by an attendant, as he was totally blind. He was a handsome youth of eighteen, and in his air there was a charming mixture of the bridegroom’s dignity and the boy’s bashfulness. He was simply, but very tastefully dressed, in a blue embroidered jacket, white silk shirt, white shawl fringed with gold, full white trowsers and red slippers. He was led to the Governor, kissed his hand and begged him to ask me if he might not be allowed to have dinner prepared for me. The officers asked me whether I knew of any remedy for his blindness, but as I found that the sight had been destroyed by cataract, I told them there was no help for him nearer than Cairo. The ceremonies were all over, and the bride, after the entire consummation of the nuptials, had gone to her father’s house, to remain four days.