The villagers, in this season, do absolutely nothing, unless it be sleep all day long. The fact is, it is awfully hot, from early morn to evening late, and they have little to do. All that they have to do, many of them do with apparent dispatch. At the dawn of day the wind is so strong, one cannot enjoy an hour of the morning's freshness; and, in the evening, the sultry ghiblee is equally disagreeable. I scarcely go out of my room the whole day. Begin to recover my Arabic. Many times I have begun and re-begun this difficult language. But there is no remedy. I must work, and work brings some pleasure, at least destroys ennui and kills time. However little time we have, we wish it less.
The Arabs ask me, "Why the Christian priests have no wives?" The Mohammedans and Catholics go to extremes in their ideas of separating or connecting women with religion and sanctity. The Mohammedans think a saint or marabout cannot have too many women or wives, which, they say, assist their devotion—a sentiment which they pretend to have received from Mahomet himself by tradition. The fact is, the prophet was very fond of women. The Catholics would seem to think a priest better with absolutely no wife. This is a mere struggle between sensuality and asceticism. There is no love or affection in it. I showed Mohammed an empty bottle. He took a piece of paper and wrote: "The bottle is empty of wine, God fill it again." Such is Arab marabout literature.
13th.—Elhamdullah! The wind has changed, the furnace breath of the ghiblee is gone out! We have now a pleasant breeze from N.W., the bahree, as the Arabs call it. We can now go out any time; before we were prisoners the live-long day. Mohammed, who pretends to all sciences, says: "There are three modes of cure—"1st, Blood-letting; "2nd, Fire and burning; "3rd, The word of God."
He made this observation in applying verses of the Koran to the eyes of his wife's sister, which he said were more efficacious than all my physic. Some of these bits of paper, with the name of God written on them, were steeped in water and swallowed by the patient. This superstition of swallowing bits of paper, with the name of God and verses of the Koran written on them, as well as the water in which the paper is steeped, is prevalent as an infallible remedy in all Mahometan Africa. Marabouts are all powerful in The Mountains; and a woman, pointing to her child, said to me:—"That boy is the child of a Marabout. I never allow another man to sleep with me." Nevertheless, the women still display intense curiosity in seeing "The Christian," and will declare, "By G—d, you are beautiful, more handsome than our men." They admire the most trifling thing I have, and add, "God alone brought you amongst us." Their language, though indelicate to us, is not so to them. It is the undisguised speech of a rude people.
Went this morning to see El-Beer, or "the well," the real fountain of life in these countries. Was much pleased with the visit; and found it at the bottom of a deep ravine, bubbling out from beneath the shade of palms and olives, amidst wild scenery of rugged steeps and hanging rocks. There are indeed, four springs, but all apparently from the same source. They are not deep, and have near them troughs for watering sheep, goats, cattle, and camels. These wells furnish water for two mountain districts. The water is of the purest quality, clear as crystal, aye, clear as—
"Siloa's brook that flow'd Fast by the oracle of God."
The road to them is very difficult, over rattling, rumbling stones, and rocks, and precipices, and it is hard work for the poor women who fetch the water, for the wells are distant nearly three miles from our village.
The Sheikh came to my Mohammed, asking him to write to Tripoli, to collect the money due to the Bashaw from certain people of this country, who are now working in that city. They look sharp after these poor wretches. Amuse myself with washing my handkerchiefs and towels, and mending my clothes. I also always cook and do as much for myself as I possibly can. Besides doing things as I like, it amuses me. Bought another skin-bag for water, and shall now distribute the three amongst us, and each shall drink his own water during the four days of our route, where no water is to be found. This will prevent wrangling on the way, and make each person more careful of this grand element of life in The Desert. Mohammed put a little oil in the skin before filling it, to prevent it from cracking. This gives the water an oily taste for weeks afterwards, but we get used to it, and are glad of water with any taste.
His Excellency the Sheikh got very facetious to-day. He offered to sell me his authority, his Sheikhdom, and retire from affairs. I bid one thousand dollars for the concern. "No, no," said he, "I'll take ten thousand dollars, nothing less." Then, getting very familiar, he added, "Now, you and I are equal, you're Consul and I'm Sheikh—you're the son of your Sultan, and I'm a commander under the Sultan of Stamboul." The report of my being a Consul of a remote oasis of The Sahara was just as good to me on the present occasion as if I had Her Majesty's commission for the Consular Affairs of all North Africa. Who will say, then, there is nothing in a name? A tourist in Africa should always take advantage of these little rumours, provided they are innocent. But the traveller more frequently has to encounter rumours to his disadvantage. Many visitors, men, women, and children—some brought milk, others figs and soap. Soap is considered a luxury in all the interior cities, and people will beg soap though never use it, but keep it as a sort of treasure. Fig and olive trees abound in the mountains, but for want of rain have produced nothing this year. So of most other vegetables products. Goats only are in abundance, of animals. The ordinary food of the people is bazeen, a sort of boiled flour pudding, with a little high-seasoned herbal sauce, and sometimes a little oil or mutton fat poured on. It is generally made of barley-meal, but sometimes flour. This is the supper and principal meal of the day. As a breakfast, a little milk is drank, or a few dates with a bit of bread is eaten. The rule of these mountaineers is, indeed, not to eat meat, though some of them have flocks of sheep.
14th.—His Excellency the Sheikh roused me from my bed this morning. He said he could not sleep, and therefore I ought not to sleep. According to his Excellency, Rujban contains 500 souls, all in misery and starvation. "The country is batel (good for nothing)," he says. It is certain the greater part of the people have not enough to eat, or half the quantity of what is considered ordinarily sufficient. In the neighbouring districts, S.W., there are 1,500 souls. Ahmed Bashaw destroyed the greater part of the inhabitants of these mountains, and disarmed the rest, leaving not a single matchlock amongst them. Such are the Turkish ideas of mountain rule—absolute submission or extermination!