“As you will, Sidi. We have horses and men, and nothing you need shall be wanting,” he replied with charming courtesy.
When later in the day I paid a farewell visit to Captain Simon at the Bureau Arabe, I found the office crammed full of Arabs, who had been summoned from the mountains.
As I pushed my way through them I caught sight of first one, then other faces that I recognised. In short, nearly all these brown-skinned chiefs with dark eyes and black beards were known to me, and each and all stretched out their hands in greeting.
“How is this?” said the captain. “Do you know the whole of them?”
“Yes, indeed,” I answered with pride; “they are my friends from the mountains.”
On the 2nd November I left for the north by the steamer Isac Pèrere. My good Hamed helped me faithfully with my packing and the embarkation of my numerous cases, and his figure was the last that I could distinguish on the pierhead.
The Isac Pèrere crept slowly north, and reached Tunis in four days. Life on board was pleasant enough, for there were several officers with us, but, being so long accustomed to ride daily, I missed my exercise.
We lay before Sfax for one day. The cavalry officers of the garrison there came out in a boat to call on Colonel Gousset and on us, dined on board, and amused themselves with their comrades, or fished for small fry from the deck or the accommodation ladder of the ship. To visit these ships twice a week is their chief distraction. The sight of fresh faces and the chance of hearing some news give a little zest to their dull lives.
At Monastir the same happened, but here the callers were officers of the Tirailleurs, and their visit was evidently intended for a newly promoted captain of their battalion, lately detailed for service at Gabés, whence he was now on his way to Tunis to meet his wife.
It so happened that he, as a young lieutenant, had served in South Oran through the same campaign, but not in the same detachment, as myself, so we had many amusing recollections in common, and were soon good friends.