Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1878-03-13

Elet~ OF WOFu Painting DV Oa r.
respondents Who also Enjoyed It.
When the sun throws his shadow
over the desert and the white desert
sands assume browner hue, and
the plodding camels pass like
shadows over the horizon and pant
with the long days burden, our
sailors begin to look for the shore.
The Arab mariner loves the shore,
and has no fancy for the night. 1t
may be the evil eye, which has a
singular influence in all Eastern
deliberations. 1t may be that we
are not in much of a hurry, and
the river is not to be depended
upon. BY the time the twilight
comes we have reached a convenient
place, and our boat hugs up snugly
beside the shore. Stakes are driven
into the soft clay banks, rude steps
are cut in the side if it is precipi-
tous, and very soon we have the
gray-headed sheik, with his follow
ers coming to watch over us.
Then comes the clatter of cooking
and supper, the crew sitting around
large dish and helping themselves
with their fingers. We have two
or three deyOut Moslems among
our crew who go ashore to pray.
The steerSman, who wears a turban
and a white flowing robe, is the pat
tern of piety. He steps down to
the brink and washes his feet, his
hands and his forehead. Then he
lays his mantle upon the ground
and looks toward Mecca. He
stands, and holding his hands in
front, with the finger tips touching,
makes low bow, his body bending
almost into right angle. He
pauses again, standing erect, mur.
muring his prayer-that there is
no God but God and Mohammed
is his prophet. He prostrates
himself on the earth, kisses it,
and rising stands erect again.
The prostratiOn takes place two
or three times; the prayer is
over; the faithful Moslem gathers
his garments over his shoulders and
comes back to the boat and supper.
When our dinner is over we have
coffee on the deck, where we sit and
talk. If we are near a village some
Of the younger ones go ashore. In
a few minutes we know by the
barking of the dogs that they have
invaded the quiet homes of an Egyp-
tian community. Hassan generally
goes along on these expeditions;
but the preeaution has not been
of any value thus far. The villages
are sleepy enough and the villagers
as quiet as possible. The children
peer at you through the straw, the
elder ones come clamoring for
backsheesh, and there is sure to be
o blind old soul to crave charity in
the house of the most mercilul
God. You pass along through
streets not more than few feet
wide, with dogs in the front and
rear and dogs barking from the
roofs OF the low mud huts, thatched
with straw. One or two Of these
expeditions generally satisfies even
the most enterpriSing of our party;
for Egyptian villages are, as far as
/ have seen, about the came. While
some of us are ashore seeking ad-
venture and the others are clus-
tered on the deck, chatting about
| friends and home and the incidents
of tho day, our sailors gather in a
circle and We have Arab music. !
cannot claim any knowledge of
music, although many OF my mQst
pleasant memories are associated
with its influence. The music of
the Arabs is a school Of its own,
which ! would defy even thS ge-
MUS of Wagner to embody. |
have often thought that the spirit
of a people is expressed in its mu-
sic as much as in its literature and
laws. The music of our Northern
nations always seemed to ring with
the sense of strength and victory. l
remember how the music Of the
Southern slaves was a strange con-
trast to the fiery strains Of their
masters. There was a low, plaintiye