When this was done, Hamed entered, leading by the hand a sprightly eleven-year-old lad, who addressed me in pure French, and was introduced by Hamed as his little brother Ali, who was invited to the festival, and had arrived with his mother and sister from Gabés, having ridden thence on a donkey.
Ali attended a French school at Gabés, and, being a bright intelligent lad, had soon learnt to talk fluent French. He told me that the Khalifa had said he might come and ask if I would employ him as interpreter.
I was much pleased with this acquisition, and during the hour which remained before the bride’s arrival, and the consequent commencement of festivities, occupied myself, with little Ali’s help, in gathering information on the subject of the wedding customs in the Matmata mountains, which enabled me to more fully understand what I witnessed later in the day, and thus add to the knowledge I had already acquired from both Mansur and Amor, and from several others of the better class of mountaineers.
And here I will diverge a little to describe the ceremonies that had preceded this last great function; and, in the meantime, my readers may picture to themselves the crowd eagerly scanning the mountains to espy the expected little caravan led by Mansur, who was to bring home the bride; the guests steadily increasing in numbers, and the bridegroom in his hiding-place, listening to the sounds of rejoicing, and perhaps dreaming of his bride-elect; whilst muskets were being loaded, locks examined, horses saddled, women adorned, and the bridal chamber made ready.
On his son Mohammed’s behalf, the old Khalifa discussed the necessary arrangements with the bride’s father, who is one of the tribe of Uled Sliman. The marriage is then concluded, but by merely a civil contract. Before the bridegroom can be left in peace with his second wife, there must be much feu de joie, many songs sung, quantities of kus-kus eaten, and many preparations made in both the bride’s and the bridegroom’s homes. In the latter especially, where festivities must be kept up for eight days, men and women vie with each other in making ready for great rejoicings.
It was, as my readers may remember, eight days earlier, on the 17th October, that I had witnessed the festival of the opening day. At first the women had been mainly occupied in collecting wheat and barley to be ground in their small stone handmills, many people being expected; so there was much work that had to be done, but joy and festivity would reign in Hadeij, so the village women met in the evenings and tried to surpass each other in improvising songs.
Whilst the chorus and joyful “Yu, yu” re-echoed in the still evenings, the men, as we have seen, sat in groups listening to the songs of the women, the negro comic singers, and the noisy drums and clarionets. Now and again there would be the flash of powder and report following report, all tokens of universal rejoicing.
The two first fête days are called “Faraja.” The third, “El Henna,” is so named after the plant, the leaves of which stain red the nails on the hands and feet of the women. A young bride must never be without this beautifying preparation in her new home, and every day she must adorn herself to please and attract her husband.
On the fourth day, “Nugera,” the women again assemble and work and sing, busying themselves with preparations for the festival.
At last on the fifth day, “Mahal,” the rejoicings begin. The tribesmen and women arrive to devour enormous quantities of various kinds of food, in addition to their well-loved “kus-kus.” The negroes dance, sing, and earn much money, as they are never overlooked by either host or guests.