The Arabs desire to find, in their horse, a devoted friend. With them he leads, so to speak, a domesticated life, in which, as in all domestic life, women play a conspicuous part—that, in fact, of preparing by their gentleness, vigilance, and unceasing attention, the solidarity that ought to exist between the man and the animal. On a journey or a campaign, far from the dwelling place, it is the rider who occupies himself with his horse. But at the encampment, under canvas, and in time of repose, it is the wife who directs, superintends, and feeds the noble companion in arms who so frequently augments the reputation of her husband while supplying the wants of her children. In the morning it is the wife who brings him his food, and tends him, and if possible washes his mane and tail. If the ground on which he stands happens to be uneven, broken, or covered with stones, she removes him to a spot more convenient for his repose and the just disposition of his weight. She caresses him, passes her hand gently over his neck and face, and gives him bread, or dates, or kouskoussou, or even meat cooked and dried in the sun. "Eat, O my son!" she says to him in a soft and tender tone. "One day thou shalt save us out of the hand of our enemies and fill our tent with booty." It is in the morning also that the Arab wife goes forth to the pastures to gather for the animal she cherishes an ample supply of herbs esteemed in the desert for their tonic and nutritive properties. On her return should she see any children, as yet too young to reason, amusing themselves by teasing or ill using the horses tethered in front of the tent, she will cry to them as soon as she can make herself heard: "Children, beat not the horses. Wretches! it is they who nourish you. Do you wish that Allah should curse our tent? If you begin again, I will speak to your father." On this subject the Arab wife is so intractable that she would not spare her own husband if he took no care of his horse. The horse is his honour, his fortune. She is proud and jealous on those points, and deems herself affected by whatever affects him. If it ever came to pass that her remarks and suggestions were passed over with neglect, she would not hesitate to carry her complaints to the chief of the tribe: "O my lord! you know that our horse is all we have, and yet my husband takes him on idle journeys, ill uses him, overrides him, and taxes him beyond his strength. It would be something if he looked after him when at home; but no, his covering is full of holes, he is never certain of being fed, and even goes in want of water. Scold my husband, I beseech you in the name of Allah. Lead him back into the ways of our forefathers. Above all, do not tell him that it was I who suggested this to you."