Every
European Traveller Has Some Recipe Of His Own.
One chews a
musket-bullet or a small stone.
A second smears his legs with butter.
Another eats a crust of dry bread, which exacerbates the torments, and
afterwards brings relief. A fourth throws water over his face and hands
or his legs and feet; a fifth smokes, and a sixth turns his dorsal
region (raising his coat-tail) to the fire. I have always found that
the only remedy is to be patient and not to talk. The more you drink,
the more you require to drink—water or strong waters. But after the first
two hours’ abstinence you have mastered the overpowering feeling of
thirst, and then to refrain is easy.
[FN#17] We carried two small brass guns, which, on the line of march,
were dismounted and placed upon camels. At the halt they were restored
to their carriages. The Badawin think much of these harmless articles,
to which I have seen a gunner apply a match thrice before he could
induce a discharge. In a “moral” point of view, therefore, they are far
more valuable than our twelve-pounders.
[FN#18] Hereabouts the Arabs call these places “Bahr milh” or “Sea of Salt”; in
other regions “Bahr bila ma,” or “Waterless Sea.”
[FN#19] Being but little read in geology, I submitted, after my return
to Bombay, a few specimens collected on the way, to a learned friend,
Dr. Carter, Secretary to the Bombay branch of the Royal Asiatic
Society.
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