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قراءة كتاب Our Little Arabian Cousin
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
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List of Illustrations
PAGE | |
Hamid | Frontispiece |
A School in Modena | 12 |
In the Black Tents | 33 |
In the "Shugduf" | 60 |
"They scattered the grain all about the courtyard" | 75 |
The Caravan on the Road to Mecca | 80 |
CHAPTER I
RASHID COMES TO THE BLACK TENTS
"They come, father, they come; I see a cloud of dust just over the hills," cried young Hamid, galloping up on his fiery little pony to where his father sat proudly on his horse, with a number of the men of his tribe around him. Al-Abukar, Hamid's father, was a grave, dignified Bedouin Arab, with a flowing beard and a long white cloak completely covering him. In his right hand he held a long lance or spear.
"Nay, nay," said Al-Abukar, shading his eyes with his hand, as he looked out across the desert, "'tis only the sand caught up in a swirl of the wind. Be not impatient, my son," he continued, "thou wilt tire both thyself and the little mare if thou dashest needlessly about, and neither of you will be able to greet thy little friend with the proper spirit."
Hamid and Zuleika, the little pony, both tossed their heads at the idea of such a thing; and no wonder! for Hamid belonged to the Beni-Harb, one of the best and bravest of the Bedouin tribes. As for Zuleika, she had come from the Nijd Desert, where the finest Arabian horses are bred, and it was said she was a descendant of the famous horse of Saladin, the great Arab ruler of olden times.
The pony's coat was rough and shaggy, and not smooth and glossy as we like to see; but Hamid could soon show you all her good points. The small head, with its thin pointed ears, wide nostrils, and large eyes, and the proud arch of her neck and the network of muscles on her wiry legs all showed that she was an Arabian horse of the bluest blood.
Hamid and his father had ridden out into the desert to meet little Rashid, a young friend of theirs who lived in the city of Medina. Rashid had been ill, and it was not easy to get well in the hot, narrow, ill-smelling streets of an Arabian city; so his father was bringing him to stay some months with Hamid, that he might live in a tent and breathe the dry, pure air of the desert, drink plenty of camel's milk, and thus become well and strong.
"The People of the Walls," as the Arabs of the desert call the folk who live in the towns, often send their children to live for awhile in the "Black Tents" in the desert, that they may grow up strong and healthy and become hardy and brave like the Bedouins themselves. The Bedouins, the real desert Arabs, are among the bravest and most courageous people in all the world. The "Black Tents," the habitations of the Bedouins, are so called because they are made of a material very sombre and dark in colour.
"Could we not ride farther out to meet our friends?" asked Hamid, for both he and Zuleika were becoming more and more restless.
"I fear we should miss them, for I know not whether they will come over the ridge or by the road up the valley," said his father.
Just at this moment one of the Bedouins called out: "Do I not see the dust from the camels' feet over yonder?"
"Ah, it is truly they; haste and we will give them welcome." So saying, Al-Abukar spurred his horse forward, and Hamid and his pony were not far behind. Together they flew like the wind over the sand and rocks.
As they came in sight of their friends, they shouted out their names, at the same time throwing their lances into the air and catching them again, and firing off their guns in real circus fashion.
You would think that all this would frighten one's friends to death, but this is only the polite Bedouin way of welcoming any one.
The camels of the caravan which was bringing the people from Medina came to a halt and everybody dismounted, and loud and warm were the greetings between friends.
Hamid and Rashid clapped the palms of their right hands together, and then touched foreheads and put their arms around each other's necks. This is the real Arab form of greeting a friend. They are more affectionate than any of the other Eastern nations, and show their joy and happiness with much emotion when meeting friends or relatives.
All now formed one group and rode along together until they came in sight of a grove of palm-trees in the midst of which was Hamid's home, a great brown tent made of cloth of camel's hair, and held to the ground by ropes tightly pegged down so that the strong winds of the desert might not overturn it. All around were the tents of other Bedouins, relatives and friends of Al-Abukar, belonging to the same tribe.
As our party reached the