Yet I cared little. I had, alas! lost my mystic talisman, and with it had disappeared all hope of securing the hand of my peerless Queen of the Desert.
Chapter Twenty Four.
Slave of the Sultan.
To describe our dreary journey through the barren unknown desert at greater detail would serve no purpose. The way lay mainly over a gigantic plain interspersed by small sand-hills and naked ledges of rock, speckled with ethel bushes half overwhelmed by sand. For days there seemed not a breath of air, and the desolate monotony was terribly exhausting. Now and then we came upon wells with herbage and a few sebót and talha trees, but the long stretches of sand within sight of Mount Azben were frightfully fatiguing for man and beast, the ground at all times being either gravelly, rocky, or strewn with loose pebbles.
Arriving at length at Assiou, a small town in an oasis on that great arid plateau called the Tahassaza, the centre of an important caravan trade, my male companions and myself were very soon led into the market-place, a square open space, and under the arches of the low whitewashed colonnade we were allowed to lounge and wait. At last we knew the worst. We were to be sold into slavery!
The place was agog with caravans arriving and departing, and on all hands men and women, mostly negroes and negresses from the Soudan, were being sold after long and loud haggling. Many, too, were the silent bargains effected by pairs of traders standing quiet and immovable in the middle of the noisy, bustling, pushing crowd, each with a hand under his neighbour’s burnouse, and grasping his arm as if engaged in feeling the other’s pulse. They were making use of the conventional signs, consisting of certain pressures of the finger and knuckle joints, each having a recognised value and significance, and by employing them they were effecting business without attracting the notice of the gaping onlookers, who would listen and offer their advice.
Among the human wares for disposal were many young Arabs of the Kel-Tin-Alkoun, the Iguedhadh, and other tribes who were weaker than their neighbours, together with some comely women, the latter creating the keenest competition among the dealers. Those who were fat enough to fulfil the Arab standard of beauty were being sold for large sums, while the more slim were disposed of to the highest bidder.
Buyers and sellers were squatting together in little groups, sipping coffee, eating melons, and smoking cigarettes while they gossiped, and as money passed from hand to hand, husbands were torn for ever from their wives, and children gazed for the last time upon their parents. This market of human flesh, which the strenuous efforts of the French and British Governments have failed to suppress, was indeed revolting, yet the scenes were not so heartrending as might have been imagined, for the majority of the women, when they were unveiled for inspection, evinced pleasure at the prospect of a new lord, while the men, finding themselves in the hands of their enemies, squatted in melancholy silence, utterly regardless of their fate.