Curiously enough, in South America, where animals of every kind are much more plentiful than in the East, they are not on the same familiar terms with man.
Who ever saw a lamb follow a Gaucho, Texan, Mexican, or any man of any of the countries where sheep abound in millions, such as Australia or New Zealand? I do not say that in Morocco animals are greatly better treated than with us, though on the whole I think perhaps the scale inclines against ourselves, but still there is community of feeling which I have never seen in any other land. Sometimes this same community makes the tragedy of animal life even more hard to understand, as when a man is followed by a lamb or kid up to the butcher, and stands and sees the thing which followed him so happily have its throat cut before his face, sees its eyes glaze, and its hot blood pour out upon the sand, pockets his half-dollar, and walks serenely home, after a pious exclamation about “One God”; as if God, either in one or three, could possibly be pleased to see one of his own created creatures so betray another only because it walked upon four legs. However, let “the One” (El Uahed) be pleased or not, no section of his clergy throughout Europe have said one word in favour of good treatment of their brother animals. Popes and Archbishops of Canterbury, of Paris, York, Toledo, and the rest, are dumber than dumb dogs, fearing to offend, fearing, it may be, that the animals have souls, or daring not to speak for fear of the stronger brethren; for when did priest, tub-thumper, bishop, Pope, or minister of any sect, take thought about the feelings of the brethren who are weak?
My scabby-headed patient turned up towards evening, and sat expectant in the door of the tent. After some thought, I told him to rise exactly one hour before the Feyzer, and get water from a stream (not from a well on any account), then put it in a vessel and pray exactly as the Muezzin called to prayer, then to walk backwards round an olive tree three times; every third day for twice nine days, to avoid all food cooked with Argan oil; finally, to wash his head well every day with soap, then to rub in butter mixed with sulphur, and then, if God so willed it, he would be well. A Seidlitz powder which he drank at once, and said there was “a spirit in the water,” [189] and nine Beecham’s Pills to be taken alternately upon the third, the seventh, and the ninth day till they were finished, sent him away rejoicing, and laid my fame for ever as a first-class “tabib.”
We now began to think how far our messenger had got, and were discussing how great the astonishment of the few Europeans in Morocco city would be on hearing of our fate, when the tent door was lifted and our messenger walked in, and silently laid the packet and the two dollars at my feet. Had a volcano opened upon the neighbouring hill I could not have been more surprised, and for a moment no one spoke, so much had we counted on the letters being well upon their way.
Swani first broke the silence with a string of imprecations on the unlucky messenger’s female relations whom he defiled, gave up to Kaffirs, compared to hens, cows, goats, and finished up by telling the poor man he evidently was born of a family the women of which were shameless, veilless, and as hideous in their persons as their characters were vile. The poor man sat quite patiently, and then replied it was no use to curse him, his heart had failed, and that he feared if he were found out the Kaid would kill him, burn his house, and throw his children into prison to rot and die. Though I was much annoyed, I was sorry for him, as one is always sorry for all those whose hearts fail at the wrong minute, and I was touched that he had brought me the two dollars back. Most likely in his life he had never seen himself at the head of so much capital, and it would have been easy for him to throw away the packet and not return. Therefore I handed him a dollar, and remarked, those who have families should not engage in enterprises such as these; God loves stout-hearted men, but perhaps loves quite as much fathers who love their children, but, children or no children, we are all in his hand. This, though they had heard it a million times, seemed to console all present, and the messenger slunk from the tent ashamed, but happy, having been paid on a scale he thought was lavish for a mere twenty-two hours’ walk. [190] Certainly when he went we were cast down, for it appeared impossible to get a letter safely conveyed, so we agreed next morning to saddle up our animals and see if the Kaid would allow us to return, thinking, perhaps, his injunctions only lay upon the road towards the Sus. This settled, Lutaif and I walked long backwards and forwards on the Maidan, in the clear moonlight, and heard the long-drawn, quavering notes of a wild song like a Malagueña rise in the still night air, wayward and strange in interval, sung in a high falsetto voice, and yet enthralling and penetrating to the marrow of the bones; once heard, haunting one’s memory for ever afterwards, and still almost impossible to catch; but it recalls Kintafi to me as I write, just as the scent of fresh-cut oranges brings me back to Paraguay, so that perhaps perfumes and sounds are after all the most stable of the illusions amongst which we live.
CHAPTER VIII.
Just about daylight we began to load our beasts, looking anxiously the while to see if any notice of our proceedings was taken from the castle walls. No one stirred, and hungry, without provisions for the road, our animals half-starved but lightly laden—for the greatest weight we had in coming had been food and barley—we prepared to start.
In the other tents the people made no sign, it was so early that neither the slaves were in the fields, nor yet the prisoners come up out of their living tomb, and still I thought it would be prudent before leaving to send Mohammed-el-Hosein to say that we were going, for to escape unseen was quite impossible, and even if we had slipped off unseen, once the alarm was given we should have been overtaken and brought back at once. We had not long to wait; Mohammed-el-Hosein soon came back crestfallen, the postern door was swung wide open and the Chamberlain emerged, followed by several tribesmen all ostentatiously carrying long guns. Although it was so early he was dressed, as at all times, in most spotless clothes, and walked across the Maidan with as near an approach to haste as I had ever seen him make. Arrived at where we stood, he saluted us quite ceremoniously, and asked where we were going, to which I answered, “Back to Mogador.” On this he said, “The Kaid bids me to tell you not to go to-day as he could never think of letting Europeans go without an audience, but most unfortunately his wound pains him this morning, and besides that, now you are known as Christians, he would not let you wander through the hill passes without an escort, therefore he bids me tell you to unload and wait.” For a moment I thought, “If we go on he will not dare to stop us,” and taking my bridle in my hand, prepared to mount, when the armed followers drew near, handling their guns, as if to shoot a Christian would have been great sport.
The Chamberlain said a few words in Shillah, which having been interpreted, said if we insisted upon going he must see his master’s orders carried out. Seeing that the Kaid was resolved we should not go, I gave my horse to Swani and went into the tent. The Chamberlain came after me, and standing in the door told me most civilly that he had done what he was told to do; as he had done it in the most well-bred way, with every consideration for my feelings and without a trace of swagger, I thought the moment had arrived to talk and understand each other if we could. The Chamberlain, Sidi [193] Mohammed, was a well-favoured, “coffee and skim-milk” coloured man; portly, of course, as became his office, honest as officers of great men go, well-dressed and courteous; in fact, a sort of Eastern Malvolio, with the addition of some sense.
I laid before him my two chief complaints, which I said I had no wish to bother him about, but that it seemed the best thing I could do was to marry a maiden or two belonging to the tribe and set up house, as there seemed little chance of ever moving from the place. However, in the meantime, should the Kaid consent to let us go, I did not want to walk back to the coast, and my horse and the other animals were growing weaker every day for want of food. Without preamble, therefore, I promised Sidi Mohammed a handsome present when I went if he would see that the man who kept the corn gave a sufficient quantity every day and did not sell it or keep it back as he had done for the past week. Sidi Mohammed expressed astonishment at such behaviour, and perhaps felt it, as no doubt the Kaid had ordered our horses to be fed, and promised to see about the matter instantly and put things right.