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
No sooner were they perceptible, than the four men descended the
abyss with much difficulty, and found me, insensible, suspended by
my sash, my head downwards. The mare lay dead a few toises below, at
the extremity of the ravine. I had ten wounds on my head, the flesh
torn from my left arm, my ribs broken, and my legs scratched to the
bone. I was deposited, without any sign of life, at the feet of Sheik
Ibrahim, who threw himself upon me in tears. But having a little
knowledge of medicine, and carrying always some valuable remedies about
with him, he did not long abandon himself to a useless grief. Having
satisfied himself, by the application of volatiles to the nostrils,
that I was not absolutely dead, he placed me carefully on a camel,
and retraced his steps as far as the village of El Habedin. During
this short journey my body swelled prodigiously, without giving any
other sign of life. The village sheik having placed me on a mattress,
sent to Hems for a surgeon. For nine whole hours I remained perfectly
insensible; and at the end of that time opened my eyes without the
smallest perception of the objects around me, or recollection of what
had befallen me. I felt as if under the influence of a dream, but
without being sensible of pain. In this state I lay for four-and-twenty
hours, and recovered from my lethargy only to suffer such indescribable
agonies that I fancied it would have been better a hundredfold to have
remained at the bottom of the precipice.
Sheik Ibrahim never quitted me for an instant, and offered the highest
rewards to the surgeon in case he should succeed in saving me. The
latter was zealous, but by no means skilful; and no amendment appearing
at the expiration of thirty days, gangrene was apprehended. The
Drayhy had visited me immediately on being informed of my accident;
and he also wept over me, and offered rich presents to stimulate the
surgeon’s efforts: but at the highest point of his sensibility he could
not suppress his regret for the loss of his mare Abaige, who was of
pure blood, and worth ten thousand piastres. Nevertheless, he was in
real distress, as was Ibrahim; for they not only feared my loss, but
foresaw in it the miscarriage of all their operations. I endeavoured
to encourage them, telling them that I did not believe myself dying.
But it was too true, that though, I should be spared, there was no
probability of my being for a long while in a condition to travel.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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