“And who is yonder white man, who seems so greatly inclined to knock over my followers?” inquired the sheikh. “His dress, I observe, differs from yours. Is he one of your people?”
“That man, O sheikh, is a faithful follower of ours; a lion in war, and a lamb in peace when not interfered with,” I answered, looking at Ben, who was at that minute engaged in a struggle with a dozen or more Ouadlims, from whom he had broken loose, and who were again trying to bind his hands.
“Let him be allowed to come here at liberty, and I will prove that what I state regarding him is true,” I added.
The sheikh shouted to his followers, and I called Ben to come to us. As he did so, he pulled off his hat, which he flourished in the air, and made the sheikh a polite bow. Then putting out his hand, he exclaimed—
“Give us your flipper, old fellow, and we will be good friends!—only, tell your people to keep decent tongues in their heads, and their hands to themselves.”
“What is he talking about?” asked the sheikh, who, of course, did not understand a word Ben had said, and was unable to comprehend his movements.
“He says that he is ready to fight for and serve you, O sheikh, as he has served his own chief,” I answered. “You will find him faithful to yourself, and a terror to your enemies, while he remains with you.”
I said this for the sake of getting Ben well treated, though it was an imprudent observation—and I was wrong in saying what was not the truth—as the sheikh might not be willing to part with Ben again. But for the present it answered its object; for the sheikh, bidding us all three follow him, led the way to the entrance of his tent, to the astonishment of his followers. Though it was considerably larger than a gipsy tent in England, it had much the appearance of one. The cover consisted of camel-hair cloth, supported by a couple of long poles in the centre, the skirts being stretched out and fastened to the ground by pegs. Heaps of sand were also piled up, as a further security to prevent it being blown away. The ground inside was covered with a dirty piece of carpet, while a few pots hanging to the tent-poles formed the whole of the furniture.
The women of the tribe were most of them even more ugly than the men; and though they were decently clothed as to quantity, their garments were dirty in the extreme. They appeared to go about the camp as freely as the men, who showed no anger or annoyance when we looked at them,—which, as Ben observed, was not surprising, considering how hideous they were. They gathered round, looking with curiosity at our white skins and strange dresses; but, out of respect to the chief, of whom they seemed to stand in awe, they did not further annoy us.
“Come into my tent, O Nazarenes, and we will talk this matter over more at our ease,” said the sheikh, walking inside, and making a sign to Ben—who, from the character we had given of him, was looked upon as an important personage—to follow. The sheikh sank down on his carpet, and we imitated his example, endeavouring, like him, to tuck our legs under us—Halliday and Ben on one side, and I on the other. But our attempts were not very successful. Halliday tried two or three times in vain, and at last stretched them out comfortably before him; while Ben, after rolling from side to side, fairly toppled over on his nose, before he could get his legs stowed away—greatly to the amusement of the sheikh, in whose estimation he was thereby considerably lowered, I am afraid.