They Carry A Load Of
"Mushakkar" (Bad Mocha Dates) For The Somal, With A Parcel Of Better
Quality For Ourselves, And A Half Hundredweight Of Coarse Surat Tobacco
[6]; Besides Which We Have A Box Of Beads, And Another Of Trinkets,
Mosaic-Gold Earrings, Necklaces, Watches, And Similar Nick-Nacks.
Our
private provisions are represented by about 300 lbs.
Of rice,--here the
traveller's staff of life,--a large pot full of "Kawurmeh" [7], dates,
salt [8], clarified butter, tea, coffee, sugar, a box of biscuits in case
of famine, "Halwa" or Arab sweetmeats to be used when driving hard
bargains, and a little turmeric for seasoning. A simple _batterie de
cuisine_, and sundry skins full of potable water [9], dangle from chance
rope-ends; and last, but not the least important, is a heavy box [10] of
ammunition sufficient for a three months' sporting tour. [11] In the rear
of the caravan trudges a Bedouin woman driving a donkey,--the proper
"tail" in these regions, where camels start if followed by a horse or
mule. An ill-fated sheep, a parting present from the Hajj, races and
frisks about the Cafilah. It became so tame that the Somal received an
order not to "cut" it; one day, however, I found myself dining, and that
pet lamb was the _menu_.
By the side of the camels ride my three attendants, the pink of Somali
fashion. Their frizzled wigs are radiant with grease; their Tobes are
splendidly white, with borders dazzlingly red; their new shields are
covered with canvass cloth; and their two spears, poised over the right
shoulder, are freshly scraped, oiled, blackened, and polished.
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