We had scarce left the town when the Kait ordered a halt and counted us over three several times: we were twelve Christian prisoners and three deserters: four of the prisoners were compelled to walk for want of mules, but were to ride by turns with the others. Together with several Jews and Arabs who had joined our caravan, we formed a body of forty, conducted by a Kait from the neighbourhood of Mascara, and guarded by one of Abd-el-Kader’s horsemen. The Kait then left us after having enjoined upon the chief of the escort to treat us well.
Soon after mid-day we saw the village of El-Borgj, but we made a detour to avoid it, as it was market day, and the Kait feared we might fall victims to the hatred and fury of the assembled Arabs: as it was, the women and children came running towards us, and loaded us with threats and abuse. Towards night, after travelling over various hills, rocks and brushwood, through a savage and uncultivated country, we reached a little village at a few leagues from the falls of the Ouet Mina. The situation of this village at the foot of a mountain near several streams is delicious; rhododendrons, poplars, almond, fig, peach, and apricot trees, cover the whole plain, and the gardens are kept fresh and green by a plentiful supply of water.
After some delay we were ushered into a sort of stable, and when the marabout had recited a prayer some excellent kuskussu was brought to us. We passed a bad night owing to the smoke. On the following day, in about four hours, we reached the village of a tribe on the banks of the Ouet Mina, where we procured some food: we then continued our journey towards the Schellif, avoiding the mountains inhabited by the Beni-Flitas who had shaken off Abd-el-Kader’s authority. After several days’ forced march over a rough country, the tired mules stumbling at every step and the men on foot suffering acutely, we reached a small village governed by an Aga of the plain of Milianah: we entered a large house in the public square, the inside of which was one vast hall, evidently intended for the reception of travellers.
At one end mats were spread on the ground for our accommodation, at the other several Arabs sitting cross-legged on rich carpets were preparing coffee. Presently the slaves brought in some splendid cushions and a handsome divan, more magnificent than those belonging to Abd-el-Kader. The Aga, sumptuously dressed, entered, accompanied by our Kait, the young marabout, and several chiefs, and they began to drink coffee and smoke long pipes.
I went towards him and said that I was ill, and also a woman who was with us, and begged him to give us some coffee; upon which he not only ordered his slaves to bring us two cups, but sent Madame Laurent and Benedicto to his wife, who treated them with the utmost kindness.
The hall which we occupied presented a most picturesque and striking scene. In one corner were the Christian prisoners sitting round a large fire, talking over their miseries and their sufferings, their livid faces plainly telling the torments they had endured: many were occupied in dressing their wounds and sores; occasionally plaintive murmurs and confused groans were audible from among them. A few paces from us, on gorgeous silken cushions, the Arabs reclined in a circle round the Aga, who looked like a Sultan in his splendid dress: these were drinking coffee and smoking. The flickering light made their pale faces look fiercer and wilder than usual. They were discussing the projects of Abd-el-Kader, and occasionally, when the conversation turned upon the Christians, their eyes flashed, rage deformed their countenances, and one might fancy that one saw before one some of those nomade tribes who in former ages overran Christian Europe, defiling the churches and monasteries by planting the crescent on their steeples and towers.
At the hour of prayer the young marabout rose and recited it: the Arabs listened with deep devotion; and from my corner I gazed upon the strange and imposing scene. We then had some kuskussu and half a roasted sheep.
This delicious repast and a good night’s rest greatly restored our exhausted frames, and we quitted with regret a village at which we had been so hospitably treated. Next day we reached Milianah. We received the usual treatment from the Arab populace, but were at length safely lodged in the house in which the Bey delivers judgment. The house consisted of three small rooms on the ground floor: in one of these the slaves prepared the Bey’s coffee; the second served as a prison for those Arabs who had taken arms for the French, some of whom were in irons, and others confined in circular blocks of wood which prevented them even from rising; the third room, which was dark, cold, and damp, was our prison. Our food was bad, and we suffered much from the exposure to damp and cold. Bourgeois, who until now had been in good health, fell ill, and our days were passed in rubbing him. The long journey too had irritated the wound of M. Pic’s servant, which began to be most offensive.
We had been assured that we should start for Algiers after three days’ stay at Milianah, and this had kept us from giving way to despondency. But when the time fixed for our departure went by, the future appeared to us in the most gloomy colours, despair seized upon our minds, and disease and misery wasted our bodies.
The Kait affected not to understand Abd-el-Kader’s directions, and ordered me to write to Algiers to announce the death of Meurice and Berthoumiau, and that two other Christian prisoners would be liberated in their stead. These delays drove us to despair, and we looked forward with impatience to the arrival of the Bey of Milianah, who might perhaps hasten our deliverance: but, he never came.