At last, at a spot where the river was very broad, we succeeded in crossing without mishap, but the water reached above the horses’ girths.
We then returned along the banks to the ford, where we waited for half an hour before Mansur’s white horse appeared on the opposite shore. The rain poured down incessantly, and our horses pawed the ground impatiently, eager to get on, but we were compelled to wait to direct Mansur where to cross.
“To the left! to the left!” we shouted; but Mansur had drawn his burnous so closely over his head that he could neither see nor hear, and not till he was close to the river were we able to attract his attention; then he also crossed safely, and we continued our way.
In the neighbourhood of the oasis we could hear the El Hamdu folk crying and lamenting the rainfall. The date harvest of the oasis was not ended, and, until it was over, water was injurious to the dates. What is good for the olives and the barley fields is injurious to the palms, the chief source of subsistence of the people of the oases. All over the world the agriculturist is the same.
Involuntarily I recollected a certain old fellow, a countryman of mine, in a town in Jutland, who, sitting at his dinner-table one day, complained loudly that the Almighty had not taken pity on the poor country folk and sent them a little rain for their rye-fields; when, at the very same instant, there was a loud clap of thunder, and rain suddenly pelted down without any warning. He at once jumped up, rushed to the window and exclaimed, “Oh, the devil! now all my peat is gone to ———!”
Step by step our horses splashed on through the puddles; it was almost impossible to quicken our pace; so it was late in the day when we reached Gabés, to find everything standing in pools.
The river had not been so swollen for many years, and had done much damage.
Luckily, neither my sketches nor my purchases had suffered.