Right in front, on the level ground, I distinguished a dark compact mass. These were the women, closely enveloped in their sombre garments; they were seated by the entrance to the caves.
A lantern was now lit and placed on the ground near my feet. At first its light confused me, but without it I could not have seen what took place.
One of the Khalifa’s horsemen named Belkassim, a relative and an elderly man, was deputed to maintain order, and at once cleared a little space between us and the women. He then led forward two negroes, who performed a dance to the sound of a drum and a clarionet. They marched towards us side by side, then retired backwards, then again forward and back. This was repeated some half-dozen times, with a swinging movement from the hips. Every time they approached us, they waved the drum and the clarionet over our heads, then turned towards the women before stepping backwards again. The Khalifa raised his hand. The negroes bent their heads backwards that he might place a coin on the forehead of each. I followed his example; with the result that they continued their parade and deafening noise of slow, harsh, wheezy, jerky music.
Suddenly it increased in pace, and both negroes whirled violently round. The time then became slower, the parade recommenced, and my sense of hearing was again endangered each time the loud drum was swung over my head.
The din ceased abruptly, and from the rows of women came a strange clucking sound as of the hurried calling of fowls, “Lu, lu, lu, lu, lu, lu, lu.” This was a sign of approval. At the same moment a gun was fired. The flash lit up the rows of women. The shots were repeated again and again. It was the bridegroom’s nearest friends firing a salute in his honour. The women responded with the “Yu, yu” cry, the negro musicians joined, and more shots followed.
Then it struck me that I also would join in the festive demonstration, so I told Hamed to bring me my revolver, and I fired the six chambers into the air, one after the other.
The women at once broke into the cry of joy. Drums and clarionets joined in.
“I am much gratified,” I said to the Khalifa, “that you have introduced me to the circle of your people. Here is my hand in token of my gratitude. May Allah protect you and yours.”
“Thanks for your good wishes,” he replied. “You come from a strange and distant land. You are my friend and my brother, one for whom I am responsible so long as you remain in the Matmata mountains. You are free to travel anywhere you please; no one will injure you.”
I said, “When I came I knew you would treat me as you would a brother; I was told so by the Khalifa of Gabés; but I was not aware that you had authority over all the tribes of the Matmata. But now I know it. I arrived with this weapon by my side, as you may have seen it hung by my saddle when you received me. Now I realise that it is superfluous, and that I shall have no need of it so long as I am amongst your people. As a sign, therefore, of my sincerity, and as a token of my respect for and gratitude to yourself, my brother, I present you with my weapon. But before I place it in your hands, permit me to salute with it, after the manner of your countrymen, as an expression of the pleasure I derive at being in your company during the celebration of these festivities.”