The art of riding the Camel is nearly as difficult of accomplishment as that of riding the horse, and the preliminary operation of mounting is not the least difficult portion of it. Of course, to mount a Camel while the animal is standing is impossible, and accordingly it is taught to kneel until the rider is seated. Kneeling is a natural position with the Camel, which is furnished with large callosities or warts on the legs and breast, which act as cushions on which it may rest its great weight without abrading the skin. These callosities are not formed, as some have imagined, by the constant kneeling to which the Camel is subjected, but are born with it, though of course less developed than they are after they have been hardened by frequent pressure against the hot sand.

When the Camel kneels, it first drops on its knees, and then on the joints of the hind legs. Next it drops on its breast, and then again on the bent hind legs. In rising it reverses the process, so that a novice is first pitched forward, then backward, then forward, and then backward again, to the very great disarrangement of his garments, and the probable loss of his seat altogether. Then when the animal kneels he is in danger of being thrown over its head by the first movement, and jerked over its tail by the second; but after a time he learns to keep his seat mechanically.

As to the movement of the animal, it is at first almost as unpleasant as can be conceived, and has been described by several travellers, some of whose accounts will be here given. First comes Albert Smith, who declares that any one who wants to practise Camel-riding in England can do so by taking a music-stool, screwing it up as high as possible, putting it into a cart without springs, sitting on the top of it cross-legged, and having the cart driven at full speed transversely over a newly ploughed field.

There is, however, as great a difference in the gait of Camels as of horses, some animals having a quiet, regular, easy movement, while others are rough and high-stepping, harassing their riders grievously in the saddle. Even the smooth-going Camel is, however, very trying at first, on account of its long swinging strides, which are taken with the legs of each side alternately, causing the body of the rider to swing backwards and forwards as if he were rowing in a boat.

Those who suffer from sea-sickness are generally attacked with the same malady when they make their first attempts at Camel-riding, while even those who are proof against this particular form of discomfort soon begin to find that their backs are aching, and that the pain becomes steadily worse. Change of attitude is but little use, and the wretched traveller derives but scant comfort from the advice of his guide, who tells him to allow his body to swing freely, and that in a short time he will become used to it. Some days, however, are generally consumed before he succeeds in training his spine to the continual unaccustomed movement, and he finds that, when he wakes on the morning that succeeds his first essay, his back is so stiff that he can scarcely move without screaming with pain, and that the prospect of mounting the Camel afresh is anything but a pleasant one.

"I tried to sit erect without moving," writes Mr. Kennard, when describing his experience of Camel-riding. "This proved a relief for a few minutes, but, finding the effort too great to continue long in this position,I attempted to recline with my head resting upon my hand. This last manœuvre I found would not do, for the motion of the camel's hind legs was so utterly at variance with the motion of his fore-legs that I was jerked upwards, and forwards, and sideways, and finally ended in nearly rolling off altogether.

"Without going into the details of all that I suffered for the next two or three days—how that on several occasions I slid from the camel's back to the ground, in despair of ever accustoming my half-dislocated joints to the ceaseless jerking and swaying to and fro, and how that I often determined to trudge on foot over the hot desert sand all the way to Jerusalem rather than endure it longer—I shall merely say that the day did at last arrive when I descended from my camel, after many hours' riding, in as happy and comfortable a state of mind as if I had been lolling in the easiest of arm-chairs."

A very similar description of the transition from acute and constant suffering to perfect ease is given by Albert Smith, who states that more than once he has dozed on the back of his Camel, in spite of the swaying backwards and forwards to which his body was subjected.

If such be the discomfort of riding a smooth-going and good-tempered Camel, it may be imagined that to ride a hard-going and cross-grained animal must be a very severe trial to an inexperienced rider. A very amusing account of a ride on such a Camel, and of a fall from its back, is given by Mr. Hamilton in his "Sinai, the Hedjaz, and Soudan:"—

"A dromedary I had obtained at Suk Abu Sin for my own riding did not answer my expectations, or rather the saddle was badly put on—not an easy thing to do well, by the way—and one of my servants, who saw how out of patience I was at the many times I had had to dismount to have it arranged, persuaded me to try the one he was riding, the Sheik's present. I had my large saddle transferred to his beast, and, nothing doubting, mounted it.