How beautiful is night!”
What mystery hangs over this last-born of continents! whose plains are sea-beds, at whose vast upheaval the waters of ocean must have rushed furiously in all directions to regain their level. A land of mystery, from the days of Herodotus until now. How we long to join those yearly caravans, which, after leaving behind them the whole northern region of the coast, travel for sixty days southwards through the burning Sahara,—reaching springs but once a-week,—crossing alternately now mountain-ridges, now seas of sand; until, passing from oasis to oasis, they at length penetrate into the region of Soudaan,—the heart of Africa, the death-place of Clapperton, and Richardson, and Overweg,—and behold the great central lake of Tchad, the most inaccessible point on the globe, yet to within a few miles of whose shores the dying energies of Clapperton brought a boat,—whose waters have been navigated by his European comrade, and on whose bosom, perchance, that bark still floats, with the flag of England flying from its mast!
Such were the quick musings of the moment of imaginative pleasure which elapsed, as we cut open preface and contents, and plunged into the book itself. In a trice, the argument of the book is plain to us. After a residence of several years on the shores of North Africa—during which time he seems to have mastered the various dialects of the Arab tribes, and of course studied their manners—Mr Davis, the reverend author, catches sight of an excellent opportunity for visiting the interior. “Sidy Mohammed Bey,” he says, “the heir-apparent of the throne of Tunis,—a prince possessed of excellent qualities, among which extreme kindness and affability are not the least prominent,—was on the point of making a journey into the interior, in order to regulate some public affairs; and, upon application, he very kindly took me under his immediate protection.”
On the sixth day after starting, they came to a good deal of broken country,—traversed several dry beds of rivers,—and crossed a number of rugged heights, rent into strange shapes. Marching through an opening in one of these minor ridges, they passed at once from a beautiful plain into the wild and ragged outskirts of the great chain of Gebel Waslaat, celebrated for the warlike character of its ancient inhabitants. “At a little distance,” says Mr Davis, “these famous and romantic heights have a most lovely appearance, resembling the vineyards of Spain and of the south of France;” but on a nearer approach, he found—as on many other occasions during the expedition—that it was only distance that lent to them their enchanting look. The Arabs of the coast look upon this region as perhaps the blackest spot in all creation; and you may as well call one of them a devil as a Waslaati. They relate that this part was at one time inhabited by a very wicked people, and that the Pharaoh under whom the Israelites were in bondage, and who received such signal chastisement, was a native of these mountains. The Mohammedan doctors go still further, and assert that it was upon this Gebel Waslaat that Eblis (Satan) was hurled down, after his expulsion from the regions of light and happiness; and that it was in these mountains that he took up his first earthly abode.
Leaving these ill-omened mountains to the west, they journeyed south-eastwards, for two days, through a plain, which, says Mr Davis, “for this part of the world, must be pronounced a luxuriant one.” It is pretty well cultivated, and is watered by a river which has its source in the Waslaat mountains. They then encamped for a couple of days in the vicinity of Cairwan, the “city of saints.” “At a short distance,” he says, “this, like every other Mohammedan city of any note, has a fine appearance, but as one approaches, its beauty vanishes. Crooked and filthy streets, ruined and dilapidated houses, wretched shops and miserable hovels, are too glaring not to attract one’s attention.” The city is surrounded by a wall in pretty good condition, and has a garrison of regular as well as of irregular troops. Outside are large cisterns, supplementing the reservoirs with which the houses within are furnished for collecting rain-water; and, still more remarkable, though much less useful, the tomb wherein repose the holy remains of Saint Shaab, “the Prophet’s barber.”
After a two days’ halt, they left behind them the plain of Cairwan, and began to approach the borders of the Sahara. On the day after starting, the Prince’s party was met by the “noble and highly-favoured” tribe of Arabs, the Dreeds (who are allowed to sit in presence of a prince, whilst every other Arab is obliged to stand), headed by their kaid or governor, Smeeda Ben Azooz. “Smeeda himself was mounted on a magnificent grey steed, whose saddle appeared to be of a solid mass of gold, so richly was it embroidered; and the other trappings were also sumptuously adorned with gold and silver. He rode in advance, and the hundred Dreeds who followed him were on horses not much inferior to that of their proud and haughty chief. When within about a hundred yards of the Prince, Smeeda dismounted, and approached on foot to kiss his hand. On resuming his seat in the saddle, he took up his position to his master’s left, whilst his attendants fell back in the rear of our party.”
The Prince was enthusiastically fond of hunting. Every day, when he had the opportunity, he was engaged in it. The chase of gazelles was his favourite sport, and it was one in which success was neither easily nor frequently achieved. “It is a grand sight,” says Mr Davis, “to behold these slender-limbed and feeble-looking tiny creatures defying the most spirited horse in speed. When pursued, they actually often stopped to nibble the grass,—as if to challenge the rider and ridicule his efforts, and treat him, his horse and hounds alike, with contempt.” They were frequently seen in companies of about twenty together. On the day after Smeeda and his Dreeds joined the expedition, a great many gazelles were chased by the Prince’s cavalry and the Arabs, but not a single one was killed. This, it is alleged, was owing, firstly, to the rough and broken character of the soil; secondly, to the burning heat which prevailed; and thirdly, the shirocco wind, which sometimes, as it blew in their faces, seemed as if it carried along with it flames of fire, and caused the riders to check the speed of their horses. But to compensate the party for their bootless efforts, Smeeda sent his servants for his well-trained hawks.
“In half an hour about twenty of these birds of prey, of an unusually large size, were brought, accompanied by several Dreeds, expert in hawking. Smeeda,—who is rather a short, but very corpulent man, with a handsome face, ornamented by a fine black, neatly-trimmed beard, and most penetrating dark eyes,—was this day mounted on a beautiful white horse, decked out with the same saddle and trappings his grey horse exhibited the day before. The dress of the rider was elegant and rich in the extreme. As soon as he had protected his hands from the talons by gauntlets, partly covered with plates of gold, a hawk was handed to him by one of his attendants. He undid the hood which confined the head of the bird, and prevented his quick eye from beholding the objects around. In an instant the hawk was seen soaring up to the sky. Another and another followed, and in this manner about twelve or fifteen were despatched. A few seconds elapsed, when one after the other pounced upon his prey. Hares and rabbits, partridges and other birds, were thus secured in abundance. The servants were busily engaged running in all directions to secure both the hawks and the prey,—the former, in order to adjust their hoods for a short time previous to being despatched again; and the latter, ‘to cut the throat’ before life is extinct, so as to render them lawful food for the true believer.”
In connection with this love of the chase, we must mention an incident which occurred as the expedition was approaching Cairwan, and which shows how little prevalent is any rule but the “law of the strongest” in those quarters, and how naturally men take to deceit as a refuge against lawless force. Mr Davis and some others of the party came to half-a-dozen Arab tents, where, to their great surprise, a general stillness and gloom prevailed. The men and children sat on the ground with an air of profoundest melancholy; whilst the women, usually so active, were resting from their labours, and exhibiting grief by floods of tears.
“‘What has happened, Ali, that you are all so much cast down?’ asked one of our party, addressing an old man.