Many Of The Arab Women Would Be
Exceedingly Pretty Were Their Beauty Not Destroyed By Their
Custom Of Gashing The Cheeks In Three Wounds Upon Either Side;
This Is Inflicted During Infancy.
Scars are considered
ornamental, and some of the women are much disfigured by such
marks upon their arms and backs; even the men, without exception,
are scarified upon their cheeks.
The inhabitants of Kordofan and
Darfur, who are generally prized as slaves, are invariably
marked, not only with simple scars, but by cicatrices raised high
above the natural surface by means of salt rubbed into the
wounds; these unsightly deformities are considered to be great
personal attractions. The Arab women are full of absurd
superstitions; should a woman be in an interesting condition, she
will creep under the body of a strong camel, believing that the
act of passing between the fore and hind legs will endue her
child with the strength of the animal. Young infants are scored
with a razor longitudinally down the back and abdomen, to improve
their constitutions.
I engaged six strong Tokrooris--natives of Darfur--who agreed to
accompany me for five months. These people are a tribe of
Mahometan negroes, of whom I shall speak more hereafter; they are
generally very powerful and courageous, and I preferred a few men
of this race to a party entirely composed of Arabs. Our great
difficulty was to procure a slave woman to grind the corn and to
make the bread for the people. No proprietor would let his slave
on hire to go upon such a journey, and it was impossible to start
without one; the only resource was to purchase the freedom of
some woman, and to engage her as a servant for the trip. Even
this was difficult, as slaves were scarce and in great demand:
however, at last I heard of a man who had a Galla slave who was
clever at making bread, as it had been her duty to make cakes for
sale in the bazaar upon market days. After some delays I
succeeded in obtaining an interview with both the master and
slave at the same time; the former was an Arab, hard at dealing,
but, as I did not wish to drive a bargain, I agreed to the price,
thirty-five dollars, 7l. The name of the woman was Barrake; she
was about twenty-two years of age, brown in complexion, fat, and
strong; rather tall, and altogether she was a fine
powerful-looking woman, but decidedly not pretty; her hair was
elaborately dressed in hundreds of long narrow curls, so thickly
smeared with castor oil that the grease had covered her naked
shoulders; in addition to this, as she had been recently under
the hands of the hairdresser, there was an amount of fat and
other nastiness upon her head that gave her the appearance of
being nearly grey.
I now counted out thirty-five dollars, which I placed in two
piles upon the table, and through the medium of Mahomet I
explained to her that she was no longer a slave, as that sum had
purchased her freedom; at the same time, as it was a large amount
that I had paid, I expected she would remain with us as a servant
until our journey should be over, at which time she should
receive a certain sum in money, as wages at the usual rate.
Mahomet did not agree with this style of address to a slave,
therefore he slightly altered it in the translation, which I at
once detected. The woman looked frightened and uneasy at the
conclusion; I immediately asked Mahomet what he had told her.
"Same like master tell to me!" replied the indignant Mahomet.
"Then have the kindness to repeat to me in English what you said
to her;" I replied. "I tell that slave woman same like master's
word; I tell her master one very good master, she Barrake one
very bad woman; all that good dollars master pay, too much money
for such a bad woman. Now she's master's slave; she belong to
master like a dog; if she not make plenty of good bread, work
hard all day, early morning, late in night, master take a big
stick, break her head."
This was the substance of a translation of my address tinged with
Mahomet's colouring, as being more adapted for the ears of a
slave!I My wife was present, and being much annoyed, we both
assured the woman that Mahomet was wrong, and I insisted upon his
explaining to her literally that "no Englishman could hold a
slave; that the money I had paid rendered her entirely free; that
she would not even be compelled to remain with us, but she could
do as she thought proper; that both her mistress and I should be
exceedingly kind to her, and we would subsequently find her a
good situation in Cairo; in the meantime she would receive good
clothes and wages."
This, Mahomet, much against his will, was obliged to translate
literally. The effect was magical; the woman, who had looked
frightened and unhappy, suddenly beamed with smiles, and without
any warning she ran towards me, and in an instant I found myself
embraced in her loving arms; she pressed me to her bosom, and
smothered me with castor oily kisses, while her greasy ringlets
hung upon my face and neck. How long this entertainment would
have lasted I cannot tell, but I was obliged to cry "Caffa!
Caffa!" (enough! enough!) as it looked improper, and the
perfumery was too rich; fortunately my wife was present, but she
did not appear to enjoy it more than I did; my snow-white blouse
was soiled and greasy, and for the rest of the day I was a
disagreeable compound of smells, castor oil, tallow, musk,
sandal-wood, burnt shells, and Barrake.
Mahomet and Barrake herself, I believe, were the only people who
really enjoyed this little event. "Ha!" Mahomet exclaimed, "this
is your own fault!
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