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M. & N. Hanhart, Impt.

HOG-SHOOTING ON THE BANKS OF THE OUED EL AHWENA, IN TUNISIA.]

The river which we visited to-day is called the Oued el Ahwena. It runs through a rich valley, bordered on both sides by mountains which rise up gradually, and are covered to their very foot with trees of various descriptions. The plain itself is fragrant with myrtles, orange trees, and olives. The beauty of the scene amid which this river falls into the sea is beyond description. Here the water is hissing wildly among osiers and furze bushes; there it skips along like a young goat over the small pebbles; and yonder, again, it winds like a serpent among the sand hills on the sea-sh.o.r.e. The dark olive-trees on the bank seem to look seriously on, like a father watching the pranks of a favourite child. The large ash-trees shake and quiver, like old aunts, all in a tremble at the dangerous hops and vagaries of a lively niece; while the gay-plumaged birds of the air ring out their wild applause, and the flowers on the bankside murmur tenderly, "Oh, take us with you, dear sister!" But the joyous, sparkling river rushes on like a coquette, bounding and skipping towards its goal.

Such is the river Ahwena in the glorious month of April: fair without, like many a gay flirt, she can yet inflict wounds incurable, if not death, upon those whom her wiles entrap. Woe to the traveller or hunter who, oppressed by thirst in this burning climate, ventures to taste the sparkling water that bubbles up like champagne, invitingly at his feet! Cholera and death would be the probable result. The waters are redolent of cholera, and the banks of fever. No man may pitch his tent in safety for a single night on the banks of this death-dealing water; not even the Bedouins, who avoid the locality as if it were plague-stricken, for fever is in the very air. Strange that so fair an exterior should veil so baneful a mystery. Those bright, sweet-smelling flowers conceal snakes and reptiles whose bite is almost instantaneously fatal, and the place might be appropriately termed the Valley of Death. Among yonder fair trees lurk the treacherous panther and the slinking hyena.

Yet, in this world, amid present impressions of pleasure, we have little time to think of the danger veiled beneath the smiling outward shape. So, at least, it was with me, as I reclined on the carpet of soft gra.s.s, after slaying the boar, placidly discussing my breakfast, and enjoying the beauty of the scene around, with the azure-rippling sea about two miles off, the magnificent mountains around me, the sparkling river at my feet, and, across the bay in the far distance, the ruins of the once mighty city of Carthage, with the birds singing merrily overhead in the bright sunshine. There is exquisite pleasure in the sensation of the external world thus melting away, as it were, into a little world of our own, and when the green trees, the azure sky, the perfumed plants, all take their places in an exquisite picture of Nature's own painting. Women, perhaps, most indulge this feeling; hence they often smile with an amiable incredulity when they hear the "lords of the creation," proud of their scholastic lore, discussing and settling everything, priding themselves upon having divided all things so cleverly into _subjective_ and _objective_, and boasting that they have furnished their wise heads with so many drawers (like a chemist's shop, forsooth), with reason located in one, good sense in another, understanding in a third, and so on to the end of the chapter.

CHAPTER XI.

SPORTING EXPERIENCES.

El Greesh.--Shooting Hyenas.--An Expedition with the Arabs.--The Caid and his Family.--Another Wild Boar.

The next day I rode on to a place called El Greesh, about twenty miles from Sleeman. I wanted to pitch my tent at the base of the purple mountain, outside the village, where I was sure we should have got a great deal of game, as the mountains were covered with thick underwood. A----, however, and the rest were opposed to it, so I yielded, and pitched my tent in the village itself, where I soon had the entire tribe around me, examining me and my arms, my gestures, and everything, as if I was an event. After a cup of coffee, I determined to start in search of game, and, with a little backsheesh, got an Arab to accompany us to one of the neighbouring defiles, where, after waiting about an hour and a half, I managed to bag a very fine hyena.

He was just sneaking out of his hole, and was about 150 yards off. On my return, the natives manifested great joy, shook my hands, made a circle round me, tapped me on the back, &c., to my chagrin. As I was tremendously fatigued, I retired to my sheepskin in my tent with great satisfaction. The natives all slept around our tents on the ground, and some of them kicked up a most infernal noise till about two in the morning, singing a sort of chorus. The following morning the whole tribe collected around our tents and watched _our toilette du matin_ with the most intense eagerness.

[Ill.u.s.tration: R. Pheney, lith.

M. & N. Hanhart, Impt.

SHOOTING HYENAS ON THE PURPLE MOUNTAINS NEAR EL GREESHE.]

The greater part of them had brought their matchlocks, as the day was to be a grand field-day, and they were all in the highest spirits, laughing, and cracking jokes to an extraordinary amount. We started about seven A.M., and I remained till eleven A.M., till which time they had not succeeded in driving anything out of cover. Here I sprained my ankle in descending a broken gully, and was obliged to return to the tent. I came back about four P.M., with only small game.

After sun-down we went out a second time in ambush after hyena. A lion or panther came, a little after sunset, and frightened the horses so that they broke loose, and we returned to the tents about eleven P.M.

The next day we started early, in order to return to Sleeman. We stopped an hour on the banks of our old friend, the river Oued el Ahwenah, for luncheon, where I shot several quail and snipes, and a large bird, whose name I ignore, also a hare, the only one I saw in Tunisia. About four P.M., I reached the Caid's house; a woman, for a wonder, opened the door. As the Caid was there, I looked anywhere but at her. The next day we went out all day, after boar, to the river, with an Italian and some Arabs. I stood up to my knees in the river for about an hour in the brush-wood, when one rushed by; I fired, and he rushed forward badly damaged. The rest fired, and he was found dead a few yards off. The Italian's steed broke loose, and he left us in search of it. I broke from my _corps de garde_. My horse lost a shoe, and then broke loose, and I had to follow him for more than a mile. I had a kind of dumbshow conversation with the Caid's son on my return, a very fine, handsome lad, about seventeen. I hear his sister is most beautiful, and I promised to send him a present, on getting to Tunis, and he is to write to me and tell me if he receives it. After dinner the Caid came and smoked two or three pipes, drank coffee, and wished us adieu in a most gracious manner.

We had considerable difficulty in bringing home the boar, as our Arabs all deserted us on account of its being the Ramadhan; but Angelo and B---- managed to carry it back between them. I returned to Tunis next day.

CHAPTER XII.

TUNIS AND ITS GOVERNMENT.

Picturesque Situation of Tunis.--The Horse Market.--Effects of Race.--The Bazaars.--Mohamed Medea.--The Bardo.--The Bey of Tunis.--His Mode of administering Justice.--Prince Puckler Muskau's Account of his Interview.

Tunis is situated on the borders of a lake, or rather inlet of the sea. It is surrounded by a crenelated wall, which resembles very much that of Constantinople. Like that city, too, Tunis, from the exterior, presents a very imposing aspect; but enter the city, and the illusion vanishes; there is the same dirt, the same narrow and filthy streets, as in the Turkish capital. The dogs alone are wanting to make the comparison perfect. An ancient historian has called this place _Tunis the white_; but, like other whited sepulchres, it is very foul within.

The horses, the really thorough-bred ones, are the finest objects in Tunis. As in the canine and human, so in every other race, blood will tell. The Arab horse, though by no means so swift for a short distance as his English cousin, has a most marvellous power of endurance. He is also extremely sure footed, and scarcely ever comes down. I weigh over thirteen stone, yet have frequently ridden the same horse forty English miles per diem, over country that would infallibly cut up your English two hundred guinea hunter. They also, so to speak, live on air. Their chief drawback is that they are, with few exceptions, stallions, and, consequently, when tethered or standing near each other, are very apt to fight most desperately, or else break loose from their tetherings, when a long and wearisome pursuit is the necessary result. It is very difficult to come across the best _pur sang_ horses, as the Arabs are afraid of the Bey's taking a fancy to them, and taking them by force; and, consequently, they often purposely mutilate them, lest he should seize them to himself. There are also some very fine bazaars at Tunis, and the otto of roses there is especially excellent. Our Consul has a very fine, large house, and dispenses his hospitalities, &c., very generously to his compatriots.

His lady is also a most amiable person. Tunis is, I hear, celebrated for the manufacture of the red cap, usually termed "fez," which is worn generally throughout Mussulman countries, and universally by the military. The Tunisian soldiers wear the plaque in front of the fez, in lieu of on the top, like the Turkish. As soon as I had selected my horse, a fine black thorough-bred Arab (whose price was four hundred francs only), I used to make excursions every day into the country, sometimes alone, sometimes attended, always armed, as the Francs of Tunis told me many stories of the dangers arising from going out in the country unarmed, among the Arabs. I think a great number of them were very much exaggerated. One of the places I was fond of riding to was Mohamed Medea, about twelve miles from Tunis, very prettily situated, where there was a very fine ruin of a Roman aqueduct, and eke a French restaurant, where a _dejeuner_, made more agreeable by a twelve miles' ride, was served in quite Parisian style. The reason of there being a French restaurant is this:--The present Bey, on his accession, determined to build a fresh palace at this place; and, being under a sort of douce compulsion, employs nothing but French architects and operatives, who make the hotel their head-quarters, it being about the only Christian house in the entire place. Quail abounded in this vicinity, and there were _pas mal de sangliers_. To escape from the _ennui_ of the _table d'hote dejeuner_ at Tunis, occupied by French bagmen and milliners, and served in a stuffy hole of a back kitchen, I used frequently to make Angelo put my breakfast in my _sacoche_ (saddle-bag), consisting of a piece of cold meat and some _vin du pays_, and then ride out, dismount, and breakfast _al fresco_, or rather _al bosco_; sometimes I am sorry to confess to breaking the eighth commandment, as I helped myself to my dessert of oranges, from the trees near or under which I sat. The Arabs, _malgre_ the ogre histories I had heard of murder and robbery, were always most civil, and would accept, in spite of the prophet, a gla.s.s of wine from my hands though our conversation was of course of the most limited description, unless Angelo was present to interpret. It is true I always was armed.

The Bardo is one of the lions of Tunis. It is the country residence of the Bey, and, besides the harem, contains a hall of justice and barracks. It is at Bardo that the Bey holds his court of justice, in which the cases are decided very quickly, and with great precision.

The interior of the harem, according to a French traveller, who had visited it, is fitted up very gracefully. There is a magnificent _jet d'eau_ in the marble court of the interior. The gallery running round this court on the second storey is furnished with a very artistically elaborated railing, or grating, part of which is painted green, part gilt. Behind this railing the ladies of the harem get a sly peep at those who visit his highness. The vast saloon in which the Bey receives his visitors is hung with crimson velvet, embroidered with gold, and the ceiling is also gilt and painted over in brilliant colours. From the two sides of the wall are suspended different descriptions of arms, richly manufactured; on the right, they consist of swords and poniards; on the left, of various kinds of muskets and pistols. Gold, silver, and precious stones sparkle out from these arms. Under these weapons are ranged three rows of divans, covered with a thick sort of red silk. The centre of the apartment is furnished with magnificent Persian carpets. On the lowest of the divans, the princ.i.p.al courtiers seat themselves, on solemn days of reception, in double file; while at the extremity, the Bey reclines on an ottoman placed crossways, and covered with white satin. In Europe, we might, with great advantage, take a wrinkle or two from this semi-barbarian prince as regards the administration of justice with expedition. The Bey of Tunis is, at one and the same time, the chief governor of the realm, the administrator of the public revenues, and the final judge of all grand cases. From his immediate authority depends the administration of the police, the imposition of taxes, the various diplomatic relations, and the superintendence of the army and navy.

We Europeans can scarcely comprehend how one man can look after so many different details, or direct them with order and precision. But in this country, mark, oh! red-tapeists, everything relating to interior administration is reduced to the greatest simplicity, and from this simplicity, freed from the complicated system of European red-tapeism and bureaucracy, results, it is to be hoped, a strict economy in public expenses, and a rapid process in the courts of justice and other Government affairs. Where a European prince would require a hundred different _employes_, here five or six clerks suffice. Besides the celerity and economy resulting from such a system, a third no less important advantage is derived, viz., the facility with which the Bey is able to superintend the conduct of the ministers, being so few in number, and immediately detect and punish those in whom any act of embezzlement or fraud has been detected; and punishment in this country immediately follows detection. Verily, there are advantages in autocratic as well as in const.i.tutional dynasties!!

In the administration of justice, too, the Bey is supreme judge, from whom there is no appeal. The celerity with which causes are tried and judged, is, I am told, perfectly astounding. The case merely consists in a simple exposition of the facts, and such is the wonderful power of discernment of the merits of the case which the Bey thinks he has obtained from long habit, that it is said he rarely deliberates. The court is open to the public--even to Christians! I did not go; but Prince Puckler Muskau has left an account of his presence there. After giving a description of the room, &c., and the Bey's entry, the Prince proceeds:--"The Bey was now presented with a magnificent pipe, which was at least ten feet long. After a few puffs, the audience commenced.

The civil and criminal procedure is so summary, that a great majority of cases were decided in as many minutes as they would have taken years in Europe. The subject of the causes was frequently very trivial, yet the patience of the sovereign was by no means exhausted.

I thought, in general, that the pleaders were satisfied with the Bey's decision. One sees, by this, that the Bey's place is no sinecure; and I am told that few monarchs in Christian countries have so much personally to do. The Bey sits every day in the court, from eight in summer, and from nine in winter, till mid-day; and illness, or absence from town, is his only excuse for non-attendance. His other governmental duties occupy pretty well the rest of his day."

Each country has an "idea," I suppose, that its own Government is best, and perhaps it is as well it should be so. The man who travels much sees the defects and the advantages of each. Our Parliament would certainly not easily be acclimatised in Barbary, nor would a Bey exactly do to grace the British throne. What, for instance, would we think of such a proclamation as this in the _London Gazette_, on a king's accession? It was issued by Mustapha, the father of the present Bey, to the consuls of Christian powers:--"Glory to princes of the religion of Messiah. To the chosen by the great of the nation of Jesus, our most honoured, most longed for, most magnificent, and most powerful friend, the King of ----, we make known, friendly, the following: On Wednesday, 23rd of the month of Moharrem the sacred, of the present year 1251, at the moment when the sun illumined the horizon, the hour marked by destiny having struck for my most honoured brother, Ha.s.sein Basha, he emigrated towards the mansion of eternity,"

&c. &c.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE RUINS OF CARTHAGE.

Reflections on Ancient Carthage.--Hannibal and his Career.--An Arab Domicile.--Picturesque appearance of the Ruins.

I went three times to the "Ruins," and therefore should have been lucky. I was, however, the reverse, both as to seeing anything of the ruins, and also the particular object which brought me there. I think, myself, proverbs are very deceitful, and should, like dreams, be read by contrary; some are utterly unintelligible; as, for instance--will any one tell me what this one signifies?--"Sweet words b.u.t.ter no parsnips." I thought parsnips (and, being fond of vegetables, I should like to know) were generally seasoned with pepper or vinegar. I am, perhaps, too stupid to comprehend it, and, like stupid people, abuse what I don't understand. Therefore, don't let any one expect a long description of how this part is Phoenician, and is supposed to be where the Carthaginian parliament was held; or their dandies and "fast" of both s.e.xes met to polka of a night, or drink Punic punch; or a "_cabinet de lecture_," or club, where the _Times_ or the _Globe_ gave the latest telegram from Italy; as how Hannibal obtained a glorious victory over the Roman troops at Thrasymene, or that the commissariat was bad; then, perhaps, old grumblers decried the dissipation at Cannae, and the expense of the war; and ancient merchants on 'Change complained of the rising importance of the Roman navy, whose ships had just captured the large Phoenician brigantine _Argo_, from Sidon, laden with a valuable freight, otto of roses, and bound for Carthage--_apropos_ of which I will remark, there is a military Rome and a mercantile Carthage in modern times. Take care we be not the Carthage; let us remember that it was from a stranded Punic vessel the Romans learnt the maritime art, in which, at last, they excelled their enemies. Hannibal appears to me always the greatest man of any age, ancient or modern--Napoleon not excepted--and perhaps the most unfortunate. His character comes to us, as his exploits, from foreign and hostile sources; for I believe there exist no Phoenician records; so that there remains a great deal of discount to take off in the way of disparagement, depreciation, &c. &c. It is as if the future Australian, standing on the ruins of a city mightier than Carthage, could obtain no account of Napoleon, but through partial and depreciatory fragments from the pages of Sir Walter Scott's life of that extraordinary meteor. Napoleon, it is true, crossed the Alps, but Hannibal traversed the Alps and Pyrenees too, and I fancy the last are the more impa.s.sable of the two. It is true I have not copied Albert Smith, or our other heroic youths, but I have climbed the Malodetta, which well becomes its appellation. Then, Napoleon had a friendly population at any rate behind him, to bring supplies, &c. Hannibal was everywhere surrounded by hostile tribes, besides having had the disadvantage of a march through enemies' countries of several hundred, if not thousand miles. I hope the living in Spain, for his sake, did not then consist of _olla podrida_, with a variation of garlic and acid wine.

Perhaps there existed in these days some machine, or some marvellous powder, by which real mountains might be removed (as spiritual ones by faith) at pleasure, and replaced in their original position; but as history makes no mention thereof, it is but fair to conclude not. No, the only machine used, the only mine, was the invincible and iron will of the Carthaginian hero. He, too, if I mistake not, lived under parliamentary _regime_, in the shape of a senate, a great hamper on military manoeuvres, where all should be done quickly, secretly, and unanimously. Napoleon was his own master, with a devoted people. I wonder if parliamentary debates, in Punic days, were as long and insipid as in modern; that is, I have not been to them, but judge by what one reads in that modern tyrant, the _Times_. Oh, mighty _Times_!

how we abuse you, and yet how should we relish our breakfast without you? who ever comes up to all we look for when great occasions call for your wonderful pen, stirring us to the quick; or whether, in an idle mood, we seek to while away the pa.s.sing hour by a description of the last new folly, or the latest odour of the Thames, or anything else instructive and amusing. By the way, if the senate of Carthage took quarter as long sending supplies to their general as the Commons discussing the way to purify the Thames, I fancy he would not have crossed the Pyrenees.

I said I went three times to Carthage; the first time, an English friend was leaving that day by a sailing ship, and I had promised to lunch with him at Goulette, and then see him on board, the first of which I did in a small house dignified by the name of _locanda_, or _Hotel Francais_, where some Maltese captains were breakfasting, who had a strong odour of onions and garlic, and at another table a Savoyard was discussing the question of annexation with a Provencal, in what I may term _moitie Francais moitie Italien_. They gave us soup made of, I don't know what, but the pepper was very strong, or rather, I may say, would have been, if it were not for the strong taste of the water, and _vice versa_; after that, some dried fish, called sardines, which they said had just been caught. For second course, we had a sort of _gigot de mouton_, which, in form, resembled the temple of Neptune at the "ruins," and you might almost have sworn they had cut it into that shape on purpose; and quails, very excellent; and we finished with cheese, which might have been manufactured from goat's milk, or cow's milk, or camel's milk, or all three, or any other milk, but was dignified by the appellation of _Chesterrre_, and was decidedly not Stilton, and eke delicious oranges. In this dinner we meet, as in life, with much good to counteract the evil, as the delicious quails made up for rancid flesh of sheep or horse; so, when next Lady Julia Plantagenet jilts me, I will remember Jessie Jones; or, again, as these fragrant oranges, redolent of the East, caused me to forget the nauseous _fromage_, so shall the friendship and good opinion of Brown console me for the putty eye and freezing regard of the fashionable Fitznoodle, when next we meet, not at Philippi, but in the park! After lunch, and adieux, I mounted my horse for the ruins, as my friend's vessel did not start as expected that day, owing to the calm.

On pa.s.sing the gate of Goulette, several Arab convicts, in chains, shouted at me for something; what it was, I ignore; perhaps they asked for backsheesh, or tobacco, or powder, fine or coa.r.s.e; or, may be, they called me a dog of a Giaour, and cursed my relations and their limbs. This Goulette appears to be the chief place for the Arab malefactors, and they are mainly employed in improving the high road between Goulette and Tunis, and also in repairing the fortifications.

The afternoon was beautiful, though hot. As it wanted some time to dinner at Tunis, I made a _detour_ on my return to the ruins, and it requires a fine air to make you enjoy fine scenery. There was scarcely a ripple on the blue Mediterranean. Beautiful trees of every description, olive and orange trees, oleanders, and others, grew to the very base of the mountain, and sent up a delicious perfume. I visited the chapel of St. Louis, from which one enjoys a most delicious prospect. It is built over some G.o.d's temple--whose, I forget, or even whether a Roman or Punic one; but this is dedicated to the true G.o.d and Christian worship, in remembrance of that venerable French king, who is said to have perished here, while on his way to Palestine, to fight the Moslem. Peace to his ashes! However, I soon left the hill to re-descend, for I was very thirsty; all of a sudden, behind an olive bush, I saw a head, black as ink, pop out; I hallooed to it first in English, then in Italian. No effect. I saw a female figure disappear behind a cottage, and out rushed a fine tall Arab, with menacing gesture, and more menacing language. I was in his garden. "A gla.s.s of water, please," said I, in Italian. Still no effect. I thought he was going to be savage, when, from behind the house popped, or rather rolled out, another little naked, curly-headed, black ball--a triennial by his looks--the Arab's only boy, no doubt. He was so irresistibly comic in appearance, that I burst into a fit of laughter. The man's face changed in a moment. I suppose he thought I was admiring the child. He immediately understood what I required, which he brought in such a large cup, that I thought it was intended for a pail. I nearly emptied it, however. He then volunteered bread and olives, which, however, I declined, to spoil my dinner. We then made mutual signs of greeting, and parted. Had I been able to talk, I would have stopped longer.

There was a sudden friendship sprung up between me and that poor unlettered infant of the desert.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE RUINS AGAIN.

Great Extent of the Ancient City.--Marsa, on the Sea-sh.o.r.e.--Carthaginian Catacombs near Camatte.--Quail Shooting.--Trait of Honesty in the Arabs.--The Arab Character.--Anecdotes concerning them.

The second time I went to the ruins I went, like Scipio, to weep, not over Carthage, but the loss of my breakfast; and the more so that it was to have been a very good one--a regular pic-nic, or _fete champetre_--under olive-trees, or orange-trees, or palms, shaded from the scorching rays of Phoebus. Champagne, Burgundy (my favourite wine), were to crown the repast. Nor was the food to be only corporal, but eke mental, as the great explorer--the great excavator--was to be there, to have explained that this was a theatre, that an aqueduct; the G.o.d to whom this temple or that altar was dedicated; and how many four-in-hands, driven by fast young Phoenician guardsmen, would have been able to pa.s.s each other down that "_via longa_." How many stones made up that house; and that this was a bath, and not a harem; and that a certain statue of some celebrity--whose name I had never heard, and never shall--was, by some, supposed to lie 100 feet under this marble pillar, though, according to others, he might be 102 feet deep interred--for all of which, I daresay, I should have been the wiser and the better; but I was sufficiently mundane to regret my _dejeuner_ the most. The fact is, A----, whose back was not sufficiently recovered to accompany me riding, and the American Consul and Davies, had gone with the edibles and beverages in a carriage, and were to have met me at the temple of some G.o.d. But, unfortunately, I mistook the deity's name, and afterwards found that their shrine lay ten miles off from the one I worshipped at. This will give one a good idea of the vastness of the ancient city, and struck me more than all the lectures and description in the world. Where people were crowded like bees, as in our London, buying and selling, and riding and driving, some 2,000 years past--occupied then, as now, in all the frivolities of this empty world--to find a complete solitude--a desert nearly--where wander the jackal and hyena! A very clever people, no doubt, these same Phoenicians were, to judge by their edifices; yet they had not discovered the theory of water finding its own level, as the peculiar construction of an aqueduct proves, the remains of which still exist, and which was to convey water some forty miles from the interior. There was a Roman city built over the Punic one, and the latter alone, of course, interests, as the former is seen any day, at Pompeii, in better perfection. Besides Angelo and myself, there was not a human being in view--yes, there are three Arab youths reclining behind that ruin of a wall, motionless as statues; I thought they were statues at first. Two have long flint guns, perhaps to keep crows off the corn, or shoot quails; or, perhaps, to shoot me if they can; for I have a fine gold chain, not to mention a ring, which would maintain them till they died of old age--which could keep them in ease and elegance for a couple of years, at the least.

You have yet to learn, if you know it not, that ten Arabs, fine men though they be, with such rusty weapons as yours, are barely a match for one European with an arm such as mine. But, my poor boys, there is no chance for you. I have, you see, a revolver with six barrels. When you see that, your brow droops as much as your eyes sparkled when you saw the chain. It is fancy, on my part, most probably; so, off my horse, and off with my clothes. The sun was scorching, and I took a delicious swim in the sea, and then rode on to Marsa, where is a ruin (everything is in ruins here) of modern date--the late Bey's palace--a most superb edifice. I said a ruin, yet it is scarcely a ruin, though fast becoming so. Marsa is a sort of watering-place for the Christians of Tunis during the heat of summer. A----'s description of the part he visited I will give: "I went with Davies and the Yankee Consul to see the catacombs of Carthage, near Camatte, which completely undermined a large mountain by the sea coast. They contain rows of niches for the coffins, and each chamber communicates with others. They hold some twenty coffins each. Some skeletons have been found, and nails; the former crumbled to pieces immediately, on being exposed to the air. These catacombs are now inhabited by hyenas and jackals, and had a strong odour of those animals." It is supposed they extend for miles, but the impurity of the atmosphere precludes entrance to any distance.

My third visit was to shoot quails on ground where, centuries ago, Hannibal had pa.s.sed at the head of his bronzed legions, amid admiring groups of citizens, the bands playing, perhaps, "_Partant pour l'Italie_." The migration of quails takes place at this season, and, with a good retrieving spaniel, hundreds may be shot. But they lie very close, and require a dog to put them up. They are by no means easy to shoot, and require snipe shot. They lie in the young corn, which is very thick and thriving here as on the field of Waterloo. As I had put up No. 6 shot by mistake, and had no spaniel, I bagged but few comparatively, some twenty. A great number of these quails are sent alive to England, and on board the Italian steamer from Sicily there were about twenty large cages, containing about fifty live quails each, which they told me were going to Britain; they had been caught like larks by the net.

By the way, I had here a proof of Arab honesty, refreshing as an oasis in the desert. Riding back through a village to Goutelle (where I was staying, previously to embarking for Malta), I dropped my powder-flask, unawares to myself. I had not pa.s.sed two minutes when I heard a loud halloo, and turning, perceived an Arab running at full speed to me with my powder-flask. Now, powder is what Arabs prize more than gold even, precious stones, or tobacco, yet they might easily have taken this without my knowing anything. On my offering him coin worth about sixpence, the Arab, in broken _lingua Franca_, made me comprehend he preferred a few charges of powder, which I immediately gave, and which he carefully wrapped up in some old paper. I record this, because at Tunis and elsewhere, we hear of nothing but Arab dishonesty and thieving propensities. Is it true, and this exception a proof of the rule? or are all these stories false? It is hard to say.

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Absolute Resonance

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Notes in North Africa Part 3 summary

You're reading Notes in North Africa. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): W. G. Windham. Already has 688 views.

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