"Mournfully! Oh! mournfully, This midnight wind doth sigh, Like some sweet plaintive melody, Of ages long gone by.
"It speaks a tale of other years— Of hopes that bloomed to die— Of sunny smiles that set in tears, And loves that mouldering lie!
"Mournfully! Oh! mournfully, This midnight wind doth moan; It stirs some chord of memory, In each dull heavy tone.
"The voices of the much-loved dead, Seen floating thereupon— All, all my fond heart cherished Ere death had made it lone."
My first object was to lie and rest my senses, so that I should recover a little of my bodily strength, as well as have my thoughts about me. Of wild beasts I could not be afraid; I knew there were none. Of the wilder animals still, the Desert bandits, I also had every reason to believe there were none. But, from my elevated position, I could see their approach, or that of friends, nearly all around me. My only fear was to perish of thirst, for it attacked me now severely. Thus I lay for an hour or so, and then got up to watch the objects of Desert. All things were deformed in the shadowy moonlight, and most things looked double with the reeling of my poor senses. Several times I imagined I saw a camel coming, actually passing by a few paces from the base of the mound. Frightened at these illusions of the brain, I determined to try to sleep; my thirst still increased and prevented me. As fatigue left me, my head became clearer, and more serious thoughts occupied the mind. The moon, however, I watched, wheeling her "pale course," for I knew she finished now her shadowy reign a few hours before morning. It is impossible to give any outline of the thoughts which now rapidly and in wild succession passed my mind: suffice to say, I committed my spirit to the Creator who gave it. I repeated mechanically to myself aloud, "Weeping may endure for the night, but joy cometh in the morning." I now took the bold resolution to return to Ghat, not wasting my strength in the morning, after having made a short search in The Desert. It was the only chance of saving my life, if I could not at once find the encampment. This resolution kept up the strength of my mind, and prevented me from sinking into despair. I had nothing to eat, nor drink, but I might reach Ghat in the evening of the second day, or if strong enough, I might get back in one long day. I knew the route along the line of Wareerat, and could not possibly lose myself when I was only to pursue the camel-track at the base of this mountain range. The only difficulty was, lest I should turn to the right and get entangled amongst the sand-hills and dwarf wood, before I reached the turning of the road which would conduct me direct to Ghat. Things which have made an impression in childhood, the soonest recur to the mind in these distressing cases. I thought of poor Hagar with her Ishmael, exposed to perish with thirst in The Desert: it was exactly my case, whilst dim vistas of childhood now filled up the chasms of opening memory. Byron's dying gladiator, in the last struggles of death, saw the green banks of the Rhine, the flowery scenes of his childhood's days, and, amid the horrid din of the Roman amphitheatre, heard the innocent shouts of his little playmates. I was now suffering a dreadful thirst, and might perish unless the same Providence directed me to the well, or the encampment, as guided the wretched handmaiden of Sarah.
Within seven or eight miles from the place where I now lay, I recollected there was the well Tasellam, under the shadow of The Rock. But how to find it, when I could not find the encampment lying still nearer me! Then came lesser thoughts and vexations. What was I to do in Ghat? How get back even if I escaped with my life in my teeth to the oasis? And would not the first thing, on my escape, be an attack of fever? Then recurred to me the words of my friend Fletcher, "Expose yourself to no unnecessary risks." The strongest self-condemnation stung me, I was vexed at my extreme folly. Shall I add, that my thoughts wandered far over The Desert, skimmed over the surge of the Mediterranean, and ascended on the wing of the east wind, now cooling my burning forehead, and sought some sad solace in dear objects of my fatherland. Oh! the heart shrinks from revealing to the world its secret thoughts, its sorrowful regrets, its bitter self-reproaches! I must be silent of the rest. I now got up, sleep I could not. I was rejoiced to see a blacker shade thrown upon all night-visible things. The moon had performed her nocturnal duty, submissive and obedient to the law imposed upon her by universal nature, and had also sunk back, like the sun, below the Giant Demon Rock. I then lay down again, and just before day, after a few moments of broken sleep, for I even slept and forgot my perilous plight, another time I came out of my living grave to make observations. I looked at the eastern and western horizons, and thought the eastern was the lighter of the two, and there was the false dawn, or the dawn itself. I had often watched these dawns in the route from Tripoli to Ghadames, and grew wise in interpreting nocturnal sights and signs by dire experience. I lay down once more. Half an hour past, I came again and the last time forth, for all the east was now inflamed with the breaking out of day. The wheels of the sun's chariot were of radiant light vermilion, the horses, of darting orient flame, were being yoked on, and I stood silent and sad to see "the great king of day" mount, and commence his diurnal course. The Rock of Demons repelled the light, and shrouded itself in deeper gloom, as Desert morn advanced,
"And sow'd the earth with orient pearl;"
for even in the dry Desert the morning sheds some moisture, if not dew-drops. But on that Rock my thoughts now concentrated—there I must soon return, and revisit all its dark and rugged precincts. This was my only chance to meet with any persons sent in pursuit of me, if such there were. Began to see I had wandered at least eight miles from the Huge Rock. I threw my mantle over my shoulders, put the dagger under my left arm, and took the lance in my right hand, which felt heavy, for I had become weak and weary with the past night's traverse of The Desert, and the painful vigils afterwards. Descending from the mound to the level of the plain, I looked back upon my bed and grave, as if loth to leave it. As soon as there was light enough to see objects somewhat distinctly, I prayed to God for deliverance, and sallied forth with an unshrinking mind. I was amazed at the illusions of The Desert, for it was now day; the night might have its deceptions and phantasmagoria. Every tuft of grass, every bush, every little mound of earth, shaped itself into a camel, a man, a sheep, a something living and moving. Before the day was hardly begun, I sprang over again to the base of the Rocky Palace, and saw now the detached pieces which during the night I had ascended; but, for the life of me, I could not find the place I visited first, and made geological discoveries, never, never to be divulged. I continued to pace up and down, north and south, for an hour, until weariness began anew to attack me. I sighed and said to myself aloud, "So soon tired!" I now returned to the plain and made another straight cut. Although the day was pretty well developed I was staggered at the deceptions and phantasms of The Desert. Every moment a camel loomed in sight, which was no camel. There was also a hideous sameness! the reason, indeed, I was lost. For there were no distinguishing marks, the mounds followed shrubs, the shrubs mounds, then a little plain, then sand, then again the mounds and shrubs, plain and sand, and always the same—an eternal sameness! Now falling into the track of a caravan, I was determined to pursue it, but it was with great difficulty I could follow out the traces. For at long intervals the hard ground received no impressions of men or camels' feet, and I repeatedly lost the track, going a hundred or more yards before I could get into it again, I continued north, I saw the camels' feet, the sheep's feet, and the prints of the camel-drivers, and sometimes I thought I saw my own foot-marks. But the slaves! Where were the impressions of the naked feet of some fifty slaves? Now I groaned with the anguish of disappointment. I must abandon the track in despair. I had already pursued it painfully over sand and rock, and pebbles, and shrubs, and every sort of Desert ground.
All this was fast wasting away my little remaining strength. I now mounted two very high mounds. Nothing lived or moved but myself in the unbroken silence, the undisturbed solitude! I observed my being too far north, I must return south. Another camel appeared. Yes, it was a small black bush, on the top of a little hillock, shaping itself into a camel. Now a marvel—life I was sure I saw. Two beautiful antelopes, light as air, bounded by me with amazing agility, and were lost in a moment amongst the shrubs and mounds of the desert plain. I fell to musing on natural history, and accounted for these gazelles by the presence of the well. I then recollected the Targhee hunter. For an instant I forgot my situation. But where was I? What was I doing? Was I to return to Ghat, or perish in The Desert? My strength was failing me fast. I could not pursue for ever this wild chase at the base of the rock of the Jenoun. Under their baleful influence, I shall wander and wander till I drop and perish! I must make up my mind. The sun was not yet high up. I could walk till noon on the journey back, and then sleep a few hours and rest. The chill of the morning had taken away my thirst. I wrapped a handkerchief over my month, and took all the precaution I could against the approaching thirst at noon-day. The lance was heavy. Shall I throw it away? Could it not afford me a moment's protection in meeting a single bandit, which class of men mostly go alone? I keep my lance, but determine to sit down to rest, previous to departing for Ghat. I had often noticed the Arabs make a straight cut of route by raising up the right arm, and putting under it the left hand to support it, and then waving up and down the right and left arms together. After my short rest, I mimicked them. Mimickry is instinctive in us. I singled out for myself a distant hill on the plain, lying south in the route by which we had come here. Now then, I took the first step towards Ghat. I continued an hour, but oh! how weary I had become. Nature seemed ready to sink, and I dropped suddenly on the side of a small sand-mound....... What shall I do?..... Shall I shed tears to relieve me?..... No, I have long given up shedding tears. And, now! I must keep up at the peril of my life. My heart renews its courage. I again get up and begin to walk, limping along. The small hill was before me—but should I ever reach even that?..... My strength of body was now gone, though the mind would not yield...... In the last moment of human extremity ...... death itself ..... comes deliverance! I continue my route to Ghat. I have just strength to raise my lance from the sand it pierces. I turn an instant round to the right hand, and a white figure passes by...... What is that? A friend or an enemy? I continue on. Is this one of our people, or of strangers? Shall I take him for a guide? Before I can think of it, I espy something in advance. But I fear an illusion, another deception. No! it is the head of a camel! I spring on with my little remaining staggering strength. To my joy unspeakable, I find myself upon my own camel—my own little encampment! But what a strange, a ludicrous scene! Here is poor Said skulking by the supper of the previous night, still placed on the fire, but which is gone out, his hands covering his face, and his head hanging down, his eyes swollen with tears but staring on the sand. The camel looks restless about, and moans. I cry out—"Said!" He starts up as if from a death-trance. He bellows out—"Aye wah," and begins to sob aloud. The slaves, close by, hear the noise and rush upon us. Where are the people? I see only slaves. They are all gone towards The Rock in pursuit of me. I now lie down and they bring me something to drink[27]. I begin with a little cold tea, and then eat a few dates. Afterwards, we got the supper cooked the previous night heated. About a quarter of an hour elapsed, when some of the party returned, and then the rest from the pursuit. They had gone as soon as it was light this morning. Last night some of them had been after me, and traced my steps, wandering over the sand, round and round, till they were nearly lost themselves, and got back to the encampment with difficulty. As soon as I recovered a little rest, our people came up to me and began to joke and laugh. "Ten dollars," said one, "you must give us for the trouble we have had in seeking for you." Another said, "Lay down, Yâkob, sleep, we will wait till noon before we start, to enable you to rest." It was now 9, a.m. But the greater number of our party seemed confused, not knowing what to think or say. In my absence, the general impression was that I had been killed by the demons. Some, more sober, thought I might have fallen into the hands of the Touaricks. Now they said: "You were very foolish, you ought not, as a Christian, to have presumed to go to the Palace of the Demons, without a Mussulman, who could have the meanwhile prayed to God to preserve you, and likewise himself. The demons it is who have made you wander all night through The Desert." The Medina Shereef, who was of our party, boldly asserted, "The palace is full of gold and diamonds. The Genii guard it. No wonder then they were offended with your going, and struck you as a madman so that you could not return." Others asked me what I saw, but would not believe me when I told them I saw nothing. So it came to pass, that I nearly lost my life for the sake of confirming them more strongly than ever in their superstitions. I, who was to have taught them the folly of their fears by practical and demonstrable defiance of the Genii confirmed and sealed the power of the Genii over this Desert. But I must observe, my companions of travel did not adopt the right method of rescuing me from the malignant influence of the Genii. If they had sent a man in each direction from the camp, I should soon have been found. All going in one direction to The Mountain, the other routes were entirely unexplored. If ever I travel The Desert again, I shall provide myself with a pocket-compass, and something still better, a small tin or other box, of sufficient size to hold about a quarter of a pound of crushed dates, or other concentrated food, and a small bottle of spirits and water. The compass to be always in my pocket, and the box always tied round my neck night and day. In the case now narrated, with this little stock of provisions I could have got safe back to Ghat, and waited and rested on the road. As it happened, there was every probability I should have perished, if I had not found the encampment. I continued for a full hour to drink ghusub-water and tea, with a few dates. Then I ate more solid food, and took coffee. My mind now rebounded, and the joy of deliverance seemed as if it would counterbalance the dreadful anxieties of the past night. What a pure pleasure I now tasted a few moments! In a freak, I sat down and sketched The Demons' Palace, laughing defiance upon it all the while, with the wayward self-will and harmless spite of a child, I took this vengeance on the unlucky Black Rock.
Now all was passed, I fancied I had merely experienced a distempered dream and ugly vision of The Desert. But when I rose to mount my camel, I found it had been no vision—I was obliged to be lifted upon my camel. Little did I think during the last (to me ever memorable) night, while chasing wearily about the dreary Desert, my own countrymen had before visited the same identical Demons' Rock. I had heard, indeed, some of the people say it had been "written by Christians."
