The Ship-Dwellers: A Story of a Happy CruisePaine, Albert Bigelow
General
The Ship-Dwellers: A Story of a Happy Cruise
Paine, Albert Bigelow
Middle East -- Description and travel
I explained to Menelek now, in some fashion, that I wanted one of those
brass things; whereupon we entered the narrow and thronging thoroughfare
of commerce--a gay place, with all sorts of showy wares lavishly
displayed--and went weaving in and out among the crowd to find it. Every
other moment Menelek would shout something that sounded exactly like,
"Oh, I _mean_ it! Oh, I _mean_ it!" which made us wonder _what_ he meant
in that emphatic way.
Then all at once he changed to, "Oh, I _schmell_ it! Oh, I _schmell_
it!"
"That's all right," we said; "so do we," for, though Cairo is cleaner
than Constantinople, it was not over-sweet just there. But presently,
when he changed again to, "Oh, I eat it! Oh, I eat it!" we drew the
line. We said, "No, we do not go as far as that."
We have learned now that those calls are really "O-i-menuk,
o-i-schmeluk," etc., and indicate that some one is to turn to the right
or left, or simply get out of the way, as the case may be. We used them
ourselves after that, which gave Menelek great joy.
XXXIX
WHERE HISTORY BEGAN
When I glanced casually over the little heap of hand-bags that would
accompany our party up the Nile--we were then waiting on the terrace of
Shepheard's for the carriages--I noticed that my own did not appear to
be of the number. I mentioned this to the guides, to the head-porter, to
the clerk, to casual Bedouins in the hotel uniform, without arousing any
active interest. Finally, I went on a still hunt on my own account. I
found the missing bag out in the back area-way, with a Bedouin whom I
had not seen before sitting on it, smoking dreamily and murmuring a song
about lotus and moonlight and the spell of his lady's charms. Growing
familiar with the habits of the country, I dispossessed him with my foot
and marched back through the vast corridors carrying my bag myself.
Still, I am sorry now I didn't contribute the baksheesh he expected. He
was probably the cousin or brother or brother-in-law of one of my room
servitors. They all have a line of those relatives, and they must live,
I suppose, though it is difficult to imagine why.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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