Morning journal and courier., 1893-11-11
The Charm of Caravan Life.

lEdwin Lord Weeks tn Harper Magazine
 This caravan life has subtle charm of it's own when one Is in perfect health and things go smoothly; and even when they do not the minor discomforts of a nomad existence do not weigh heavily on nerves blunted by the open air and certain amount of healthy fatigue. When one journeys by vestibule train or Wagner sleeping-car the short space of time be- tween two cities is like an interim, an entr' scte, during which ones daily routine Is suspended, to be resumed again only when he leaves the train at his destins- tion. But here, where the distances are so vsst, the real existence is on the road, and the brief stay in each city, full of fe- verish, sgitsted movement and unrest, be- comes the interim, and the traveller looks forward to the calm and pure air of the desert plateau beyond and the comfort of his tent. The routine of daily life Is little trying at first, but easily learned. Each twenty four hours Is divided into | four parts-the period of hurry and sctiv- | ity in the early morning, longer one of
 comparative tranquility on the march, the brief hour of hustle on arriving at our destination, and then "nirvsns," the dreamless sleep of the night. At half
 past three or four 8. m. 1t is time to get up and dress by csndle-light, to call for the 'ssmovar" and hot tea, to see that the men in the kitchen tsnt are sssir, and that the chavsdsrs are feeding their horses. Then the smell articles are packed, Abdul lah brings in breakfast, and while We are eating the chsvsdsrs come in to take out the baggage, the first red light from the rising gun shines through the transparent | walls, and then the tent itself Is pulled | down, and we are shiveriDg in the frosty | and bracing morning air. Sometimes breakfast is finished on one of the camp | chests while the table is being packed away When the last load has been se- | cured, and the ground, now strewn with egg shells and loose straw, has been | searched for lost articles, we mount our | horses or walk on ahead. Then comes the | long day of comparative rest, and when
 the brief morning chill has passed away,
 made drowsy by the growing heat of the
 sun, We nod and sway in our saddles, | lulled by the monotony of the slow march
 aud the ceaselsss tinkling of the bells. | Over deserts of white salt, like new-fsllen
 snow or frozen sleet, where the horizon | swims and quivers in the mirage, and over | plains hoored with black volcanic deposits, | we ride on and on, over passes, across riv- CTS and msrshy plains, until it is time to | hurry on ahead of the caravan and dis | patch nasty lunch on some shelterless
 hillside, or deep in A gully If the wind
 blow, and best of all, where there Is a | brook in which to cool bottle of wine | This caravsn, unlike the forEsr one, Lever
 hslts at noon, but keeps on ct the same | uuvarying pacs until its allotted task Is | done At last the lengtheniDg shadows
 and the eight of the distant mud walls of
 the village where We are to halt warn us
 that 1t is time to spur on with the chaya-
 dsr to select our campipg-ground before
 the baggage animals come up. It was usu-
 ally our fate to encamp on a plowed field,
 and 1t was no small piece of work to clear
 the ground of stones and briers; often in
 high wind 1t required the combined
 strength of all of us to hold the Tapping
 canvas while the pegs were being driven
 in, and we were fortunate indeed if there
 were no wet sketches lying about when
 the dust drove in clouds under the tent.
 When the cords are well secured the bAg'
 gsge is brought in, carpets are spread out,
 beds are unfolded, and the eboDite filters
 are put in working order, 90 that tea or
 the refreshing "peg" may be forthcom- ing. There is often a leisure hour in
 which to jot down impressions of color
 before Abdu ullah cemes in to set the table,
 and after dinner we sit under the can
 vas awning which projects above the tent door, and smoke in the crimson after glow, grand and solemn in this land of vast horizons