H. E. "This is a city of dervishes and marabouts—people don't steal—if they've nothing to eat they beg."
People are calling at my house all day long for medicines. Every morning I send tea (made, of course,) to the Rais and the Sheikh Makouran. Presented the Rais with my Moorish portfolio, all worked over with various devices in leather and silk. He was quite delighted with it, observing, "The Christians are good people, but the people here don't know them. Yâkob, take courage, little by little," (a favourite expression of the Rais). Next to my house is a garden whose date-trees bear no fruit, and its beds are covered with dry dust, a sad picture of neglect. On asking how this was, I was told the owner was in Soudan, and in consequence no one looked after and watered his garden. The merchants of this city often remain in Soudan five, ten, even fifteen and twenty years, leaving their families here whilst they accumulate a fortune in commercial speculations. Sometimes they marry other wives in Soudan, and form another establishment.
Bathed again in the Spring, but found it surrounded with women, fetching water. Contented myself with washing in one of the private washing apartments attached to the Spring. The water was warm, but I felt afterwards cool and refreshed. There are no public baths here as on the coast towns. I observed the place formed of a high raised stone-bench, just as you enter the city, (on our side) where all strangers pray. It seems built on, the principle of some Romanist churches, which are dedicated, like those of the ancient classic temples, to particular uses and services. My Marabout prayed in it with devout fervour as we passed, I being obliged to wait for him.
This evening dined with the Rais at his house for the first time. His Excellency was extremely kind and spoke freely of the Ghadamsee people. "These," said he, "are a people given up to prayer, and many of them spend their time in nothing else."
I said, "Are there ten thousand people in Ghadames? So I have heard."
Astonished, he replied, "There are not five hundred men."
"Are there not several of the people travelling?"
"Only a few."
Then, talking of thieves and banditti, the Rais told me to bring my money to his house in order that he might take care of it. On depositing it with him he asked how much it was. There were only two hundred piastres of Tunis, all the money I had. The Rais seemed surprised it was so little (about seven pounds sterling!) I made the best of it by telling him if I remained I must send for some more. He also recommended me not to sleep on the top of the house, but in my room, and shut the door. However, it is so hot that I should be suffocated if I were not to leave the door open. In explanation, he said, "The Touaricks and other strangers are thieves." The Rais is very sick, with bad eyes. Sent him some more physic.
Whilst writing my journal, the house is filled with Touaricks, and I cannot get rid of them. I am obliged therefore to enter into conversation to amuse them.