“I expressed to her,” says Barth, “all the regret I felt at being obliged to refuse, and whilst explaining how sensible I was of the honour she did me I told her my camels were too tired to carry her.”
I have already referred to the standard of beauty amongst these people, and how they admire embonpoint; and I may here add that, when a woman has achieved the weight desired, she might very well claim to be admitted into the so-called “Société des Cent Kilos.” The name given to this special charm by the Tuaregs is tebulloden, and those who know anything of the onomatopœia theory will see in a minute how appropriate it is to a Tuareg Venus who is not content with being merely a Venus Callipyge.
Neschrun, no doubt, was rather of the tebulloden style of beauty, so that it is quite possible that the camels of the German traveller were really not equal to carrying her weight.
Now was not this a good story to prove my identity in my parley with the messengers from El Mekki?
It actually turned out that Neschrun was the sister of El Mekki, and was still alive, so of course I made a great fuss about seeing her at once. Alas! she was far away in the interior, and it was no use hoping that she could come to me or that I could go to her, so I had to be content with sending her a present of a folding mirror with three glasses, trimmed with plush, which had cost about three shillings. See how generous I was!
The messengers went back to tell El Mekki all about it, and we at once became capital friends. Two slaves belonging to the chief of the Kel es Suk were given to us as guides, and we started again, but not before I had sent my affectionate greetings to the lady who might have been my aunt if she had not been so fat, or if Barth’s camels had been better able to carry heavy loads.
My dear “uncle”! my brave “uncle”! my providential “uncle”! yet once again had you drawn a sharp thorn from the foot of your nephew when the happy thought occurred to you of relating your love affair with a daughter of the Kel es Suk.
The current was now very strong, running at the rate of 4½ miles an hour. We could not fail to see that we had drunk our best wine at the beginning of the feast, and that we must now husband our resources most carefully. In other words, we must steer with the greatest caution.
The fresh breeze from the south drove the Aube a little out of her course, and she struck on a bed of coarse gravel. She was, however, in very little danger, and we soon got her off again. But when out of the narrow channel she was flung violently on to a sharp rock, and there remained stationary. The water was so deep just there that the coolies could not stand in it, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that we rescued our consort this time. However, after swimming about her for an hour our efforts were at last rewarded by seeing her afloat again.
