"Of a truth thine eyes have bewitched me, For Death itself is in fear of them: And thine eyebrows, like two logs of wood, Have battered me each in its turn.

So if thou sayest die, I'll die; And for G.o.d shall my sacrifice be!

"I have neither yet died nor abandoned hope, Though slumber at night I ne'er know.

With the staff of deliverance still afar off, So that all the world knows of my woe.

And if thou sayest die, I'll die, But for G.o.d shall my sacrifice be!"

While the singing was proceeding Sad and Drees had been indulging in a game of draughts, and as it ceased their voices could be heard in eager play. "Call thyself a Mallem (master). There, thy father was bewitched by a hyena; there, and there again!" shouted Sad, as he swept a first, a second and a third of his opponent's pieces from the board.

But Drees was equal with him in another move.

"So, verily, thou art my master! Let us, then, praise G.o.d for thy wisdom: thou art like indeed unto him who verily shot the fox, but who killed his own cow with the second shot! See, thus I teach thee to boast before thy betters: ha, I laugh at thee, I ride the donkey on thy head. I shave that beard of thine!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, taking one piece after another from his adversary, as the result of an incautious move. The board had the appearance of a well-kicked footstool, and the "men"--called "dogs" in Barbary--were more like baseless chess p.a.w.ns.

The play was as unlike that of Europeans as possible; the moves from "room" to "room" were of lightning swiftness, and accompanied by a running fire of slang e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns, chiefly sarcastic, but, on the whole, enlivened with a vein of playful humour not to be Englished politely. Just as the onlookers would become interested in the progress of one or the other, a too rapid advance by either would result in an incomprehensible wholesale clearing of the board by his opponent's sleeve. Yet without a stop the pieces would be replaced in order, and a new game commenced, the vanquished too proud to acknowledge that he did not quite see how the victor had won.

Then Fattah, whose _forte_ was mimicry, attracted the attention of the company by a representation of a fat wazeer at prayers. Amid roars of laughter he succeeded in rising to his feet with the help of those beside him, who had still to lend occasional support, as his knees threatened to give way under his apparently ponderous carcase. Before and behind, his shirt was well stuffed with cushions, and the sides were not forgotten. His cheeks were puffed out to the utmost, and his eyes rolled superbly. At last the moment came for him to go on his knees, when he had to be let gently down by those near him, but his efforts to bow his head, now top-heavy with a couple of shirts for a turban, were most ludicrous, as he fell on one side in apparently vain endeavours. The spectators roared with laughter till the tears coursed down their cheeks; but that black and solemn face remained unmoved, and at the end of the prescribed motions the pseudo-great man apparently fell into slumber as heavy as himself, and snored in a style that a prize pig might have envied.

"af.u.k! af.u.k!" the deafening bravos resounded, for Fattah had excelled himself, and was amply rewarded by the collection which followed.

A tale was next demanded from a jovial man of Fez, who, nothing loth, began at once--

"Evening was falling as across the plain of Haha trudged a weary traveller. The cold wind whistled through his tattered garments. The path grew dim before his eyes. The stars came out one by one, but no star of hope shone for him. He was faint and hungry. His feet were sore. His head ached. He shivered.

"'May G.o.d have pity on me!' he muttered.

"G.o.d heard him. A few minutes later he descried an earthly star--a solitary light was twinkling on the distant hillside. Thitherward he turned his steps.

"Hope rose within him. His step grew brisk. The way seemed clear.

Onward he pushed.

"Presently he could make out the huts of a village.

"'Thank G.o.d!' he cried; but still he had no supper.

"His empty stomach clamoured. His purse was empty also. The fiendish dogs of the village yelped at him. He paused discomfited. He called.

"Widow Zadah stood before her light.

"'Who's there?'

"'A G.o.d-guest'

"'In G.o.d's name, then, welcome! Silence there, curs!'

"Abd el Hakk approached.

"'G.o.d bless thee, my mother, and repay thee a thousand-fold!'

"But Zadah herself was poor. Her property consisted only of a hut and some fowls. She set before him eggs--two, hard-boiled,--bread also. He thanked G.o.d. He ate.

"'Yes, G.o.d will repay,' she said.

"Next day Abd el Hakk pa.s.sed on to Marrakesh. There G.o.d blessed him.

Years pa.s.sed on; one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Abd el Hakk was rich. Meludi the lawyer disliked him. Said he to Widow Zadah--

"'Abd el Hakk, whom once thou succouredst, is rich. The two eggs were never yet paid for. Hadst thou not given them to him they would have become two chickens. These would each have laid hundreds. Those hundreds, when hatched, would have laid their thousands. In seven years, think to what amount Abd el Hakk is indebted to thee. Sue him.'

"Widow Zadah listened. What is more, she acted. Abd el Hakk failed to appear to rebut the claim. He was worth no more.

"'Why is the defendant not here?' asked the judge.

"'My lord,' said his attorney, 'he is gone to sow boiled beans.'

"'Boiled beans!'

"'Boiled beans, my lord.'

"'Is he mad?'

"'He is very wise, my lord.'

"'Thou mockest.'

"'My lord, if boiled eggs can be hatched, sure boiled beans will grow!'

"'Dismissed with costs!'

"The tree that bends with every wind that blows will seldom stand upright."

A round of applause greeted the clever tale, of which the speaker's gestures had told even more than his words. But the merriment of the company only began there, for forthwith a babel of tongues was occupied in the discussion of all the points of the case, in imagining every impossible or humorous alternative, and laughter resounded on every side, as the gla.s.ses were quickly refilled with an innocent drink.

XX

THE MEDICINE-MAN

"Wine is a key to all evil."

_Moorish Proverb._

Under the glare of an African sun, its rays, however, tempered by a fresh Atlantic breeze; no roof to his consulting-room save the sky, no walls surrounding him to keep off idle starers like ourselves; by the roadside sits a native doctor of repute. His costume is that of half the crowd around, outwardly consisting of a well-worn brown woollen cloak with a hood pulled over his head, from beneath the skirts of which protrude his muddy feet. By his side lies the basket containing his supplies and less delicate instruments; the finer ones we see him draw from a capacious wallet of leather beneath his cloak.

Though personally somewhat gaunt, he is nevertheless a jolly-looking character, totally free from that would-be professional air a.s.sumed by some of our medical students to hide lack of experience; for he, empiric though he be, has no idea of any of his own shortcomings, and greets us with an easy smile. He is seated on the ground, hugging his knees till his attention is drawn to us, when, observing our gaze at his lancets on the ground, he picks one up to show it. Both are of rude construction, merely pieces of flat steel filed to double-edged points, and protected by two flaps slightly bigger, in the one case of bone, in the other of bra.s.s. A loose rivet holding all together at one end completes the instrument. The bra.s.s one he says was made by a Jew in Fez out of an old clock; the other by a Jew in Marrakesh. For the purpose of making scratches for cupping he has a piece of flat steel about half an inch wide, sharpened across the end chisel-fashion. Then he has a piece of an old razor-blade tied to a stick with a string.

That this is sharp he soon demonstrates by skilfully shaving an old man's head, after only damping the eighth of an inch stub with which it is covered. A stone and a bit of leather, supplemented by the calves of his legs, or his biceps, serve to keep the edges in condition.