The Lady.—"God knows, you don't know[54]."
This good amiable lady is somewhat spirituelle for a Mooress, and makes lively and apposite remarks on other things, as well as religion. The Maraboutess may be twenty-five or thirty years of age, not good-looking, neither disagreeable. A dark complexion, a prominent aquiline nose, a fine gazelle-like eye, and hard-looking features are overshadowed with a triste and melancholy expression, from the circumstance of her being continually an invalid. I saw the poor thing was so weak that she could not stand upright. The saint said, with a heavy sigh, as she attempted to move about, "If I were to go to Tripoli, would you give me a ride on your camel?" I answered, "Every morning a couple of hours," during which time I always walk. She then complained of her poverty. She did not know how she should get money enough to go on her pilgrimage to Mecca. If God had given her the strength of others, she would have walked bare-foot over The Desert. I consoled her by saying, that, being a saint, all the pious Moslems would relieve her. She would get a ride from one and another, and God would soon help her over the dreary Desert. The Maraboutess was busy embroidering in coloured worsted, chiefly the bodies of frocks, which are worn by brides on their marriage-days, as well as by lady Mooresses on other festivals. In ten days she earns two shillings, the price of one embroidered frock. She has always more than she can do, for the women of Sockna consider garments made by her, "holy robes," and keep them all their life-time. For the rest, she, poor thing, lives on alms. She asked, of course, many questions about women in Christian lands, and was very much surprised to hear that the supreme ruler of England was a woman. The Maraboutess observed, however, in her character as such, "What a pity she (the Queen of England) was not the daughter of Mahomet, like Fatima!" The saintess then asked if Her Majesty had any children, and was glad to hear she had so many. Three or four children is a good number for women in these oases. She was puzzled to know why I was not married. I told her I could not carry about a wife in Sahara. Another woman, listening, observed, "Why, you foolish one, leave her at home till you return." These ladies then spoke of religious rites, and asked me if a Christian, when he was buried, was placed on his knees. This notion they have got from our habits of prayer. Moslems never kneel, properly speaking, at prayer. Their attitudes at prayer are in style and essence, prostration. The ladies, growing bolder, began to speak of the "Bad Place," the ultima thule of Moorish discussion with Christians, imitating the fire of perdition with their hands and mouth, wafting the air with those, and blowing and puffing with this, and then asked me how I should like "The Fire" (النار). But I returned, "Christians say all Mohammedans will go into that fire." This greatly shocked them, and they asked if I thought so likewise. I replied, "All who fear God, and are good to their neighbour, may expect to see Paradise, if there be one." "Ah, that's good!" these proselyting ladies exclaimed. The Maraboutess was, however, more thoughtful. "Do you doubt there is a Paradise?" she asked, looking me full in the face.
I.—"There must be such a place, at least let us hope so; for this is a bad world, and everybody in it is miserable—Sultans and Dervishes."
"God is great!" exclaimed the Maraboutah. She then begged for medicine to cure her, for although she had stigmata like St. Francis, she would rather be cured of them. I recommended her the baths in Tripoli, and to put herself under the treatment of the English doctor. "Oh," she added, "send me some medicine, and I'll give you some milk." Then the poor thing, groaning with an attack of pain, continued, "Do, make haste." I could do nothing for the poor sufferer. On returning to my house, I sent her some cream-of-tartar, and received from her some milk immediately, showing her high sense of gratitude.
27th.—Visited the little dirty Kaed. He gave me dates' syrup to drink. It was more delicious than honey This syrup is made by pouring fresh water on fresh dates, and covering up the bowl in which they are placed, allowing it to stand a night. Only one of the species of the Sockna dates, but that of the most exquisite quality, will produce this Saharan ambrosia.
Generally, if dates are steeped in water, they will not produce syrup, and only get a little soft. People never wash dates. They say it deprives them of their fine fresh and peculiar date-flavour. When the Mudeer handed me the bowl to drink the syrup, he observed to the Moors and his precious doxy, sitting wantonly by his side, "The Christians are fine people. If in Sockna you give them a cup of coffee, or a few dates, and see them afterwards in Tripoli they will make you many compliments, and be very kind to you." This remark was made spontaneously, having no selfish end. The old Turk was too much of a gentleman in his way to allow such a sordid calculation to enter his mind at the time. I may mention here, a woman observed when I visited the Maraboutess, (addressing me), "You must send the medicine, for a Christian mou yakidtheb (never lies)." It is a pity that these people, who have discernment enough to see at times the moral superiority of Christians, should not look a little below the surface and inquire into its cause. Not, however, that all Europeans, (or myself,) deserve these high compliments of gratitude and love of truth, although, compared to Moors and Arabs, we are certainly far their superiors in morals. The little dirty Turk had as usual his fair concubine installed on the seat of honour. Sockna people say, "She has no husband," and others, "She is the Kaed's wife," to make the best of a bad appearance.
28th.—Shut up writing during the morning, but in the evening paid a visit to the little nasty dirty Turk, and found the little nasty dirty fellow very civil. His Excellency complained of being very sick. I returned immediately to fetch him some medicine. Afterwards we mounted together to the top of the Castle. From this eminence, we had a splendid view of the environs, and the various little oases of Sockna and its neighbouring desert. The distant mountains form an unbroken circular line on the pale margin of the sky, except on the east, where it is indented a little, but of several heights and colours, giving a fine and more varied effect to The Desert scene. Within this circle, at the base of the various groups, are black-green palms, scattered in little forests, casting shades on the now white, now light red, and now purple mountain sides, as if to set off the perspective of The Desert picture. Here and there are garden-huts or lodges in the wilderness, so many black spots within little squares of pale-green patches of corn cultivation. There is a string of moving dots. What is that? A caravan winding along its weary way. Not a bird is seen to wing the ambient air. The atmosphere generally is a pale unpolished yellow, inclining in some cloudy flakes to red. The Saharan sun now fast descends, with a feeble heat and exhausted lustre, showing the near approach of the dull and drowsy step of shadowy night. There is something about Saharan views which is peculiar to them and to Africa; every object is so smoothed down and smoothed over, that the scenery of Desert looks at a distance more like paint and picture-work, than the stern realities of the Wasteful Sahara. And yet these smoothed-down picture-objects are so well defined and sharply prominent—all the lines traced in the most absolute manner—no blending of shapes or even colours. Mist and misty objects are not frequent in the African Desert.
The Castle of Sockna would be considered by us a ruined building, and condemned as unsafe to be inhabited, but here it is always "The Castle." It does not contain a single good room; all is tumbling to pieces, and if you don't take care, you will fall through some of the floors, gaping open with large holes at your feet to let you in. Only one miserable piece of cannon was mounted, and two other pieces of ordnance were lying "below stairs," corroding most delightfully in rust. But the Turks never pretend that this place can make any serious defence against an enemy. Were indeed a good piece of ordnance fired from the top of The Castle, the concussion would knock down all the part of the building where it was placed. As it is, a portion of the outer walls has fallen down, and the rubbish is scattered up to the doors of the neighbouring shops. No effort is made to clear away this rubbish. "Why should it not remain where God has allowed it to fall?" says the fate-believing Moslemite. The owners of the shops creep to their magazines of merchandize as they best may. I remarked to the little dirty Turk, who sat with a dreamy stare looking over The Desert, smoking very unpolitely with his back to the sun, "This country without question was formerly in a much better state, and The Castle in good repair." His Excellency shook his head negatively. The Turks detest this country, hating its inhabitants with the most cordial hatred. Yet the lust of rule, (the object of a fatal ambition in all Moslemite countries,) and the right and power of bastinading a man when they please, reconciles them to The Desert, and to its weary, dreary, blank mode of existence. For what toys do men sacrifice the best days of their life, and the most noble faculties of their being!
Glad to get away from the dirty old Turk. Called later to see my dearest Maraboutess, with whom I was almost inclined to fall in love. It is a positive relief to find something, and somebody amiable in this Desert of human affections. The saint had many visitors, and is evidently held in high respect by the inhabitants. Her female associates sitting by her, asked me, what has been so often asked before, if the Christian women brought three or four children at a birth. From some cause or other, polygamy, obesity in the women, or the abuse of the marriage-bed, Saharan females have very few children. There were five elderly men in our caravan; all were married, of course, for every man marries amongst Mahometans. These old gentlemen had not more than two children each, and one of them none. I set the Sockna ladies right, telling them, some of our women had twins, and now and then three, but that one was the rule. Every thing about us Christians is exaggerated. The people of these towns think us a distinct race from themselves. Such is the effect of religion when misapplied; it estranges men from one another instead of drawing them together with the cords of brotherly affection. An Arab present with us, changing the subject, asked why I did not go to Bornou, for all the Oulad Suleiman (Arabs of the Syrtis) up at Bornou were friends of the English, and one and the same with them? He continued, "But let them come here to cut down again our palms, and we will not leave one of them alive." I gave the poor Maraboutess a few paras, received her blessing, and bade her an affectionate adieu. Happy would be many, if with such bodily afflictions they could amuse themselves with such blissful visions!
His Excellency presented me with half a pound of coffee, and told me to beware of the Sockna people, who would rob me of it if they could.