Narrative of the residence of Fatalla Sayeghir among the wandering Arabs of the great desertLamartine, Alphonse de
History
Narrative of the residence of Fatalla Sayeghir among the wandering Arabs of the great desert
Lamartine, Alphonse de
Arabian Peninsula -- Description and travel
It was essential that I should be covered with rags, in order not to
excite suspicion or cupidity if we were discovered on the road. This
was my costume for the journey: a coarse cotton shirt pieced; a dirty
torn gombaz; an old caffié, with a bit of linen, once white, for a
turban; a sheep-skin cloak with half the wool off, and shoes mended
to the weight of four pounds: besides these, a leather belt, from
which hung a knife worth two paras, a steel, a little tobacco in an
old bag, and a pipe. I blackened my eyes, and dirtied my face, and
then presented myself to Sheik Ibrahim to take my leave. On seeing
me, he shed tears:--“May God,” said he, “give you strength enough
to accomplish your generous design! I shall owe every thing to your
perseverance. May the Almighty be with you and preserve you from all
danger! may he blind the wicked, and bring you back that I may reward
you!” I could hardly refrain from tears in my turn. At last, however,
the conversation becoming more cheerful, Sheik Ibrahim said smilingly,
that if I were to go to Paris in this costume, I should get much money
by showing myself.--We supped; and at sunset we departed. I walked
without fatigue till midnight: but then my feet began to swell. My
shoes hurt me, and I took them off; the thorns of the plants the camels
browse on pricked me, and the small stones wounded me. I tried to put
on my shoes; and in continual suffering I walked on till morning. A
little grotto gave us shelter for the day. I wrapped my feet in a piece
of my cloak that I tore off, and slept without having strength to take
any nourishment. I was still asleep when my guide called me to depart:
my feet were much swollen--my heart failed me--I wished to wait till
the following day. My conductor reproached me for my weakness:--“I knew
well enough,” said he, “that you were too delicate for such a journey.
I before told you that it was impossible to stop here: if we pass the
night, we must also pass the next day; our provisions will be consumed,
and we shall die of hunger in the desert. We had better give up our
undertaking while there is yet time.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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