‘I thank you much, Kaid Reshid,’ I replied, ‘for your good wishes that I may enjoy the favour of the Sultan. Allow me to tell you that, from the moment I had the pleasure of riding alongside of your magnificent charger, I have been wrapt in admiration both of your own appearance and of the trappings of your high-bred steed, reminding me of the paintings and sculptures I have seen of the ancient people of the East and of the early Christians.’
With a haughty, angry expression, Kaid Reshid replied, ‘Are you mocking me, saying I am like a Nazarene? What resemblance can there be between us Mussulmans and the Románi[29]?’
‘I said not that your appearance resembled that of the modern, but of the ancient Christian. The graceful, flowing robes you now wear, are like those depicted in pictures of the early Christians. Your “haik”—a garment without seam—is such as it is described our Saviour, “Sidna Aisa” (our Lord Jesus), whom you call the “Spirit of God,” wore on earth. Your saddle and stirrups are precisely of the form of those which Christians used in early times, and even two centuries ago, before the invention of fire-arms, when the lance was their chief weapon on horseback. Your bridle and the trappings about the neck of your horse are precisely those I have seen depicted in ancient Greek sculptures. Know you not, Basha, by the respective dates of the Christian and Mohammedan era, that the former are the more ancient people who believe in God Almighty? The Christian as well as the Mohammedan religion, and I may add, art and science came from the East. It is no shame, therefore, that your costume should be like unto that of the early Christians. As to my present garb, I gather from your expression that you find it very uncouth as compared with that of the Moslem; and my saddle and bridle no doubt appear to you scrimp and mean; but Europeans, when they progressed in warfare and manufactures, cast aside the flowing robes, which encumbered their movements, and adopted this tight-fitting clothing, by which they obtain greater freedom for the use of their limbs. They found the saddle, such as the Moslem now uses, too heavy, and that the breastplate, large stirrups, &c., needlessly overweighted the horse and hindered his speed. I am not surprised you regard with contempt my “kida,” and that you express a hope the Sultan may give me a better mount. Now, in order that I may give you proof of the truth of what I have said, I challenge the best horseman you have amongst your chiefs to race with me to yonder rock in our path (about a quarter of a mile distant), go round it, and return to you. I see the Khalífa and your sons are mounted on magnificent steeds—I challenge them.’
One of the Basha’s sons spurred his horse angrily, so that it reared and curvetted, and said, ‘Oh! my father, the Envoy is making fun of us.’
‘No,’ I replied, ‘that is not my intention. Let us have the race, and I swear that if this “kida” does not win, I dismount and make it a present to the winner.’
‘The Envoy is in earnest,’ said Kaid Reshid, and, turning to his sons and the Khalífa, added, ‘You are to gallop to that rock, go round it, and return. Whoever reaches me first wins. I remain here with the troops in line.’
Our four horses were placed in a row, and at a signal from the Basha we all started. My three opponents dashed off at full speed, ramming in their long spurs till the blood streamed, whilst I held in hand my swift little nag, riding about six yards behind one of the sons, who, turning round as we galloped, and holding out his hand, said, ‘Shall I help you along?’ I laughed and replied, ‘Thanks, I am coming.’
As we approached the rock I closed on them and my nag, having a good mouth, turned sharply round it and we were all four abreast, their horses being much blown as they had been ridden at full speed. I had no spurs, but merely pressing my little Barb and giving him his head drew well in front, leaving the three horses twenty yards behind and had time to reach the Basha, wheel round by his side and see them finish, spurring furiously.
‘The Envoy has won,’ said the Basha, with a dejected countenance.
‘Yes,’ said one of his sons, who was second in the race. ‘He has deceived us. That animal he rides is no doubt a Saharáwi (a horse from the Sahara desert), who has been bought for his weight in gold, or sent him by the Sultan as a “Shrab Reb[30].”’