Mysteries of the Libyan Desert

by W. J. Harding King

This was also correct, as the litham the man had been wearing did not cover the crown of his head, and consequently his hair was exposed. It was remarkable, owing to the fact that Moslem women are even more particular to conceal the top of their heads than to cover their faces. The crown of their head must not be seen by their own father, or some say even by the moon.

I then told the boy that his description was perfectly accurate, except that, as the figure he saw was veiled, he had very naturally concluded it to be that of a woman instead of a man. I asked him whether the man carried any weapons, and pictured to myself a curious dagger he had been wearing, which lay along the under side of his left forearm, secured to it by a band round his wrist, with the hilt lying in the palm of his hand.

The boy replied that he carried a sword. This was true, though I was not thinking of it at the time. I asked him to tell me what he was doing with it. He said he could see a drawn sword, and the man was holding it in his left hand. He again seemed doubtful in making this statement.

The left hand is considered as unclean among Moslems, and consequently left-handed natives are very rare, so, although his statement as to his holding a drawn sword in his hand was wrong, the connection with the left hand, on which the man had been carrying the sheathed dagger I had had in my mind, was rather curious, unless he were seeing his image reversed, as he would have done if he had seen him in a mirror. I asked him whether he was sure that it was a sword that he saw, and not a dagger, but he was quite positive on the point, and added that it was an unusually long one. This would have tallied well with the sword, which was a long and straight one, much like the ordinary Dervish type from the Sudan. But I had been thinking of the dagger and not of the sword, so on this point he was wrong.

At this point in the proceedings the wretched dragoman from the hotel, who had led me to the magician, shoved in his oar, asked the boy some stupid question, causing him to look up from the ink to reply, and the magician declared it would be useless to ask him any further questions, as the spell had been broken.

This method of clairvoyance, if such it be, has been seen by several reliable Europeans—Lane, for instance, gives an account of it in his book on “The Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians”—and there can be no doubt at all that, in some unexplained manner, correct answers have often been given to the questions asked of the boy when the possibility of collusion was out of the question.

The phenomena of thought transference have been considerably investigated of late years, and many serious scientists believe in the possibility of communicating ideas in this way, without the medium of either speech or hearing. Assuming this to be feasible, thought transference affords a ready means of explaining the phenomena of the Derb el Mandal in a case like that I have just described.

But the mandal is said to be used with success for other purposes besides the mere reading of another person’s thoughts. The finding of hidden treasure, or articles that have been lost, is a very frequent reason for it being employed, and I have been assured, by natives, that the results are often satisfactory; but reliable evidence on this point is certainly desirable.

One of the railway guards in the Nile Valley used to have a great reputation for doing the mandal. He was once called in to diagnose the case of the young daughter of a man I knew, and to prescribe treatment. This, I was told, he did successfully, and the girl completely recovered. There is nothing, however, remarkable in this, as most complaints will cure themselves if doctors and other magicians will only leave them alone. The influence, too, of faith-healing and suggestion in this case would also have to be considered.

The railway man used a small mirror instead of a pool of ink. The boy, who was looking into it, stated subsequently that, after gazing at it for some time, it appeared to become greatly enlarged, and a room seemed to be reflected in it. This he was told to order to be swept and then sprinkled. I have seen a glass of water used instead of a pool of ink, and believe that a basin of oil is also sometimes employed. The whole question is an extremely curious one, and might possibly repay investigations on the ground that it is not magic.