A Few Turks, Ragged
Old Men From Anatolia And Caramania, Were Mixed Up With The Maghrabis,
And The Former Began The War By Contemptuously Elbowing And Scolding
Their Wild Neighbours.
The Maghrabis, under their leader, "Maula Ali,"
a burly savage, in whom I detected a ridiculous resemblance to the
Rev.
Charles Delafosse, an old and well-remembered schoolmaster, retorted so
willingly that in a few minutes nothing was to be seen but a confused
mass of humanity, each item indiscriminately punching and pulling,
scratching and biting, butting and trampling, with cries of rage, and
all the accompaniments of a proper fray, whatever was obnoxious to such
operations. One of our party on the poop, a Syrian, somewhat
incautiously leapt down to aid his countrymen by restoring order. He
sank immediately below the surface of the living mass: and when we
fished him out, his forehead was cut open, half his beard had
disappeared, and a fine sharp set
[p.192] of teeth belonging to some Maghrabi had left their mark in the
calf of his leg. The enemy showed no love of fair play, and never
appeared contented unless five or six of them were setting upon a
single man. This made matters worse. The weaker of course drew their
daggers, and a few bad wounds were soon given and received. In a few
minutes five men were completely disabled, and the victors began to
dread the consequences of their victory.
Then the fighting stopped, and, as many could not find places, it was
agreed that a deputation should wait upon Ali Murad, the owner, to
inform him of the crowded state of the vessel.
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