Some Shot Two Or Three Dozen Times Wide
Of The Mark And Were Derided Accordingly:
One man hit the bone; he at once
stopped practice, as the wise in such matters will do, and shook hands
with all the party.
He afterwards showed that his success on this occasion
had been accidental; but he was a staunch old sportsman, remarkable, as
the Arab Bedouins generally are, for his skill and perseverance in
stalking. Having no rifle, I remained a spectator. My revolvers excited
abundant attention, though none would be persuaded to touch them. The
largest, which fitted with a stock became an excellent carbine, was at
once named Abu Sittah (the Father of Six) and the Shaytan or Devil: the
pocket pistol became the Malunah or Accursed, and the distance to which it
carried ball made every man wonder. The Arabs had antiquated matchlocks,
mostly worn away to paper thinness at the mouth: as usual they fired with
the right elbow raised to the level of the ear, and the left hand grasping
the barrel, where with us the breech would be. Hassan Turki had one of
those fine old Shishkhanah rifles formerly made at Damascus and Senaa: it
carried a two-ounce ball with perfect correctness, but was so badly
mounted in its block-butt, shaped like a Dutch cheese, that it always
required a rest.
On our return home we met a party of Eesa girls, who derided my colour and
doubted the fact of my being a Moslem.
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