Hassan’s horse was quite exhausted, and we deliberated on what was to be done. The other Bedouins, seeing no chance of bettering their situation, pulled up, and it was concluded that we must make our beds on the snow. The prospect was dismal. We had no water, no firewood, and only a few cakes of dry bread to eat. We had nothing to sleep on, nothing to cover us; no cave, no hole to creep into; no bush to lie under. These are moments when the imagination pictures nothing but dismal things. We were perhaps surrounded by enemies, perhaps removed leagues and leagues from any human being. The very Bedouins who had accompanied us were by trade mere robbers; and, whatever may be said of the protection they afford to such as have once put themselves under their care, I must confess I was not sure in my own mind that they would not be tempted to plunder us during the night. We gave our horses their feed of corn. I made Giorgio take his seat on one end of the deal box, with his back to me, placing myself on the other end, that from leaning against each other we might derive some mutual support and warmth. Hassan sat down by us, with the corn-bags under him. He and Giorgio soon fell into a doze, from which I occasionally awoke them, to prevent the danger of freezing to death. For my part, I could not get a wink of sleep; and the want of rest gave me a feverish heat, which saved me, in some measure, from the effects of the inclemency of the weather.
The morning of the 22nd was looked for with an impatience that can only be known to those who have found themselves in similar situations: it came at last. We resolved to diminish our luggage as much as possible. To this end we unpacked the deal box, threw the case away, and put its contents into the corn-bags; and, to relieve Hassan’s horse, which seemed hardly capable of standing on his legs, these were added to the burden of mine. We now mounted, the servant being behind me, as before. The snow had ceased, but a thick fog darkened the atmosphere. Our Bedouins, however, had found out where they were, and could, in a manner, judge what their course should be. They hurried on, as on the preceding day, whilst we did our utmost to keep up with them: but the animals, exhausted by such continued suffering, were no longer equal to the task. The Bedouins continued to gain on us, and at length we lost sight of them, and saw them no more.
At this distressing moment, the fog cleared up, and our delight may be conceived, when, on a neighbouring hill, we saw a drove of camels. We made towards it, and were informed by the herdsman, that the Beni Omar Bedouins were encamped in a bottom hard by. Our spirits cheered up. We met other herds; and at last saw a woman grubbing roots for fuel, a certain sign that we were close to the tents. In a few minutes we came to the edge of a glen, where was a large encampment. In the spirit of Eastern hospitality, we alighted at the first tent we came to, which was that of Shaykh Hamed, where we were civilly received. We warmed ourselves over a blazing fire: and, whilst we recounted the history of our night’s sufferings, the shaykh listened to the tale with all the unconcern imaginable; these being, with the exception of the snow, the everyday adventures of this hardy people.
Our horses, too, more to be pitied than ourselves, met with as little compassion. As they had not drunk since leaving Palmyra, I urged the necessity of melting some snow for them: but Hassan forgot, over the fire, the misery of his beast, who, tethered in the front of the tent, stood shivering with the cold, and was so enfeebled that he could scarcely stand. “The horse is done for,” was his expression,—“Yedebber Allah, the Lord will provide for him.” This trait of inhumanity may serve as an example (among many others that I could quote) of the false notions that travellers propagate of the tenderness of Arabs for animals. “God is bountiful,” they cry, and, tying the halter to the hind-leg of their mares, they turn them loose to find pasture and water where they can. Thus, the exhausted horse, tied close to us, came and almost licked our faces in token of thirst. The sight was too affecting; and I declared I would have some snow water, if no other was to be had. A boiler at length was produced, and enough snow was melted to assuage the most pressing calls of the poor animal.
To do me honour, a lamb was killed and served up at sunset, cut in pieces, and boiled with bread. The shaykh, to mark his respect still more, would not sit down till we had eaten, but, placing Hassan and Giorgio with me, insisted on waiting upon us: and Hassan, that he might not be outdone in politeness, raked over the dish with his hand, to find a tit-bit to present to him as he stood by, whilst I did the same to his son: and thus they amused themselves until we rose, when they sat down to devour the remainder.
The next morning was snowy. The Beni Omar found no pasture for their flocks, and gave us to understand that they were about to decamp. Their course was contrary to ours, and we were at a loss how to act. I stated my difficulties, that our horses were no longer serviceable; our baggage heavy; and begged for a camel to carry it, offering to pay for the hire: but there was none to be had, and we set off in the same order as we had arrived on the preceding day. Consideration for the state of the horses induced me to walk, and to order Giorgio to do the same. Hassan, it will be allowed, had double cause for doing so too: but the pride of a Bedouin is to be on horseback; and, in order that the answer to the question, so often put from one to another among them, “Are you mounted, or on foot?” might be in the affirmative, nothing could ever persuade him to walk, though the groans of his suffering horse reproached him at every step.
We were, however, unusually fortunate this day; for in half an hour we reached another encampment of the Beni Omar, and alighted at the tent of the shaykh himself. He was called Ali Bussal; and I was pleased that an opportunity presented itself of seeing a chieftain so renowned among the Bedouins for his prowess, and so dreaded in the neighbouring provinces, as the most formidable enemy to caravans that the Desert could produce. We passed the night with him. He was of a grave character in conversation; and his long white beard, joined with the solemnity of his manner, gave him the appearance of a saint more than of a robber. To compensate for his crimes, he was very religious, and was polite enough to insinuate to me that he esteemed Christians no better than dogs. Moslems are so accustomed to insult the followers of Christ, that it is always an effort when they condescend to put themselves on an equality with them.
Whenever Mahannah was at variance with the Turks of the towns bordering on the Desert, he sent Ali Bussal to plunder the caravans. Ali Bussal was caught on one occasion, and soundly bastinadoed by the governor of Hems: this, it may be supposed, had not increased his liking for the Osmanlis.
We had now obtained instructions where to find Mahannah; and, though the snow was deep, and the wounds on the back of Hassan’s horse were so fetid as to infect the air around him, it was necessary to proceed; for a Bedouin extends his hospitality through the night, but not willingly longer. Hospitality is a virtue of poor nations; a sort of convention for one party, where there are no inns, no houses, no towns, to offer what they would expect in return, should their own affairs lead them from home: otherwise, the stranger must starve. On these conditions, they share their mess with him; and it is a received usage, now strong as a law, that whoever presents himself during a meal, is invited to partake of it. Still it is often likely that him whom they feed they will finish by plundering—not openly; but they will continue to beg from him; or, operating on his fears, to induce him to give more than the value of what he has cost them.
We travelled about a league, and found some other tents, where we stopped for the night.