We, Who Merely Crossed The Desert From Cairo To Suez, Could Form
Little Idea Of The Pleasures Which A Longer
Sojourn and more extended
researches would afford - the poetry of the life which the Arab leads.
Nothing, I was told,
Could exceed the enjoyments of the night, when,
after a day of burning heat, the cool breezes came down from elevated
valleys, occurring between the ranges of hills which I had observed
with so much interest. This balmy air brings with it perfumes wafted
from sweet-scented flowers, which spring spontaneously in the green
spots known to the gazelle, who repairs to them to drink. Although
the dews are heavy, the Arab requires no more protection than that
afforded by his blanket, and he lies down under the most glorious
canopy, the broad vault of heaven with its countless spangles, no
artificial object intervening throughout the large circle of that wide
horizon. Here, his ablutions, prayers, and evening-meal concluded,
he either sinks into profound repose, or listens to the tales of
his companions, of daring deeds and battles long ago, or the equally
interesting though less exciting narratives of passing events; some
love-story between persons of hostile tribes, or the affection of a
betrothed girl for a stranger, and its melancholy consequences.
Notwithstanding the slight estimation in which the sex is held by the
fierce and jealous Arab - jealous more from self-love than from any
regard to the object that creates this feeling - there is still much of
the romantic to be found in his domestic history. English travellers,
who have acquired a competent knowledge of the language, may collect
materials for poems as tragical and touching as those which Lord Byron
loved to weave. I could relate several in this place, picked up by my
fellow-travellers, but as they may at some period or other desire
to give them to the public themselves, it would be scarcely fair to
anticipate their intention.
We now began to look out with some anxiety for the arrival of the
steamer at Bombay, speculating upon the chances of finding friends
able to receive us. As we drew nearer and nearer, the recollection of
the good hotels which had opened their hospitable doors for us in
the most unpromising places, caused us to lament over the absence of
similar establishments at the scene of our destination. Bombay has
been aptly denominated the landing-place of India; numbers of persons
who have no acquaintance upon the island pass through it on their way
to Bengal, or to the provinces, and if arriving by the Red Sea, are
totally unprovided with the means of making themselves comfortable in
the tents that may be hired upon their landing.
A tent, to a stranger in India, appears to be the most forlorn
residence imaginable, and many cannot be reconciled to it, even
after long custom. To those, however, who do not succeed in obtaining
invitations to private houses, a tent is the only resource.
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