Desert Quack.—"Impossible! Haram, it is prohibited. You are the wise doctor, you know all things."
English Quack.—"How many people have you killed by your physic?"
Desert Quack [surprised at this abrupt and impertinent question].—"God forefend that I should kill any one! But sometimes Rubbee (God) takes away my patients, and sometimes they get better. But whether they die or live, people always say, 'It is written (predestined).'"
I then related the story of Gil Blas, who bled to death the rich lady, under the precepts of Dr. San Grado, and was challenged in mortal combat by the suitor of the fair dame. On which he observed, "Gil Blas was a dog. I trust the other man killed him. Here we bleed, but we always know when blood enough is left in a man to keep him alive."
"How do you know that?" I replied.
The Taleb.—"1st. I see if he sinks down. 2nd. I ask Rubbee. 3rd. Sometimes the Jenoun (demons) tell me. 4th. If he dies, what matter? Is it not the will of God?"
19th.—Great preparations are now going on for the departure of the ghafalah to Ghat and Soudan. An order has come from the Pasha, that the Rais may take 2,500 instead of 3,250, less 750. This the people must pay. And I hear the poor wretches have at last consented to swallow the bitter pill. Every man, having a small property, or a householder, will pay each five mahboubs; the merchants considerably more. A little by little, till the vitals of this once flourishing oasis are torn out, and it becomes as dead as The Desert around it.
20th.—This morning a slave ghafalah arrives from Ghat with forty slaves. Two escaped en route. What could the poor creatures do in The Desert? They must have perished very soon. The ghafalah brings important news. The Shânbah, 700 strong, had been ravaging the country of the Ghat Touaricks, and had murdered thirty-seven people. The Touaricks were arming, and in pursuit of the Shânbah assassins. Besides this, the Shânbah have captured a Ghadamsee ghafalah, escorted by Touaricks, not respecting a jot the Maraboutish character of this city. It consisted of thirty camels, laden mostly with the property of our merchants. Sheikh Makouran himself lost 2,000 mahboubs. Total loss for the merchants here is about 15,000 dollars. It is the caravan which left these two months ago, and took a letter for me to the Governor of Ain Salah. Both letters have been unlucky; the one sent to Ghat could not be delivered because the Governor was changed; and this one, I imagine, has fallen into the hands of the Shânbah. Two slaves escaped with a water-skin. They then fell in with some Touaricks, who gave them a little bread, and in this dreadful plight they got to Ghat. One died after his arrival. What became of the Touaricks is not yet known. They are probably massacred. I made the acquaintance of these luckless Touaricks, and gave them some medicine to take to Touat. In this foray the Shânbah killed a little child of three years old. When they struck down a man, they ripped open his belly and left him. These Shânbah banditti (who, to my surprise, are lauded in the French works published by the Minister of War, as the most enterprising camel-drivers and merchants in The Sahara,) are, without doubt, what the people say here, the vilest and most bloodthirsty miscreants in The Desert. How strange it is they are Arabs! It is always the Arab, who is the most thorough-going, hereditary, eternal robber of The Desert! Is it because we read, "And he will be a wild man; his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand against him?" The disposition for brigandage in the soul of the Arab was a proverb of Jewish antiquity. So we have, כַּעֳרָבִי בַּמִּדְבַּר, "As the Arabian in the Wilderness." My Arabic translation, which was done by the Missionaries of the Roman Church, follows some of the ancient versions, and renders it مثل اللّص "like the thief in the Desert" (See Jeremiah iii. 2.) Still, Mr. D'Israeli thinks there's nothing like Arab blood, if we read aright his "Tancred," and would have us regenerate the old effete race of Europe by this fiery and bloodthirsty Oriental barbarian, as the Arabian stallion improves our dull race of horses. It is reported, in town, "When the Shânbah cut to pieces the thirty-seven Touaricks, one man was left untouched amidst the slaughter, owing his safety to his Ajab, عجب (amulets), which he wore in great profusion." This lucky charm-clad fellow saw the whole business from first to last, unmoved amidst the commingled cries of the victims and their slaughterers, and made a full report to the Touarghee chiefs. Talking to Rais about this slaughter, his Excellency observed, in the spirit of true Turkish policy, "So much the better. Let the Touaricks and Shânbah slaughter one another, as long as we are left unharmed. The less of them the better for us." So the Turks have always dealt with the quarrels of the Arab tribes in Barbary, rather blowing up the flames of their discord than pacifying them. The Shânbah drove away a thousand camels, besides sheep and oxen, from the Touarick districts. The merchants are all frightened enough, and our departure is deferred, notwithstanding that the slave caravan met with no accident. The Shânbah have now got their booty and revenge, and will probably decamp and leave the route clear for us. Common misfortunes often make friends of enemies. I saw Sheikh Makouran and Mohammed Ben Mousa Ettanee, the two principal merchants representing the factions of Weleed and Wezeet, very busy in conversation upon the neutral ground of the market-place, talking over their mutual losses. Both have lost property to a great amount by this Shânbah irruption.
21st.—The departure of the ghafalah is deferred to the 24th. Rais is busy in comparing the papers of the merchants with the goods arrived from Tripoli. These ill-used merchants pay 13 per cent. for exporting their goods from Tripoli to the interior. The same goods have already paid 5 per cent. when imported into Tripoli by the European merchants. There is then the profit of our Ghadamsee merchants, and the profit of native merchants, and the merchants and the manufacturers in Europe. At what price, then, above their intrinsic value, are those goods sold to the merchants of Central Africa? A hideous thing is this system of transit duties!
22nd.—Weather is cold, everybody wraps up. People sit two or three hours together out of doors in the morning before they'll stir. I ask them, "Why don't you move about,—you would be then warm?" They answer, "Măzāl shemtz" (no sun yet). Rais is excessively gracious: he gave me a small loaf of white sugar. I had none left, and the gift came in the nick of time when required. I have said so much about Rais Mustapha, that I must now give a personal description of his Excellency, before I take leave of him and of Ghadames. First of all, Rais is not a military man; he is a civil servant of the Porte, and receives his pay direct from the Sultan. The Turks often employ a civil servant where we should expect to see a military man, as in this distant Saharan post, and find it to their advantage. The Governor for military advice usually writes to the Commandant of The Mountains. His Excellency rarely reads, but writes constantly, and is very expert in accounts, his principal occupation being the collecting of small monies. His Excellency is also fond of collecting coins of different Mussulman States. The reader has seen that he is very attentive to his religious duties, and is quite, if not superior "marabout odour." His Excellency scarcely ever punishes anybody, beats his slaves seldom, but can be very despotic when he pleases. Like most Turks, he has a smack of bad faith in him, and made the Souf Arabs pay the duty on the goods in their possession, though he promised people he would not. We may suppose he is very badly off for money; perhaps his own salary is not very regularly paid. His Excellency always behaved very well when I purchased any corn of him. He is generally esteemed by the people. In person the Rais is exceeding tall, above a convenient height; he is about forty years of age, with strongly-marked Turkish features, and a large aquiline nose. His limbs are heavy and large, but since his residence here he has lost all his flesh. He dresses in the common dress of Ottoman functionaries. I often found him chatty and facetious, but sometimes he was sulky and morose, and would not speak for hours together. He had a fine horse, but rarely could be prevailed upon to go out and ride for his health. Every great man has his shadow, his echo, the expression of himself more or less in his fellow men. The Rais's shadow is one Abd Errahman, a small merchant. His sons call their father souwa-souwa ("like-like") with the Rais. Abd Errahman knew the Rais's most secret thoughts, and he was the only Ghadamsee in whom the Rais could entirely confide. Abd Errahman swore by the Governor's head, and was his most obedient humble servant.
