Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1898-03-08
A BARD OF THE DESERT.
An English Artist Writes of a Bcdouin
Poet.

Poet.
He was an old man, gray bearded and
sun dried; and the look of Importance
upon his brow was repeated in the ex-
preston of reflected glory which ami
mated the countenance of his son. Each
carried an instrument called ell
kemengeh, a kind of two-stringed fid-
die.
Shutting his eyes, and comfortably
rubbing his hands together, the old
man began, in harsh, strident voice,
to deliver a panegyric upon the song he
was going to sing, calling forth re-
peatedly CALCULATIONS of "Aiwa,'
"Yeuss,' and other approving signs,
from the assembled crowd. After TEN
minutes of this became impatient, and
exclaimed: II drub ell kemengeh va
usta'' (''Play your fiddle, o my mas
terry, whereupon, with sympathetic
grunts from all, he began the overture,
weird, wailing melody, to which the
son played a kind of second in minor
key which it is impossible to transcribe
correctly in our annexation.
Beginning like the signing of the
wind among the palm trees, it gradually
gathered power and volume in
crescendo, then died away again to
breath, playing infinite changes upon
the opening theme. The effect was dis
tinctly artistic and quaint, and 1 was
gradually drifting into state of
dreamy imaginings when suddenly the
bard broke silence, and in voice of
amazing power and incisiveness began
to intone the Song of the Nephaata."
Going back for generations, the le-
gend described the growing of the
parent tribe into power in Mesopot-
anna, and how, in course of time, when
men and camels and horses were in
plenty, the head sheik decided upon the
conquest of Tunis. Admirably accom-
panied on their instruments, one
seemed to hear the hurried riding of
messengers dispatched to summon dis
tant families; their horses hoof strokes
gradually dying in the distance until
naught was heard but the signing of
the night wind across the desert. Pres
emily from far away was caught the dis
tant laundering of the gathering
hordes, gradually approaching nearer
and nearer until the volume of sound
eliminated in a general salutation to
the sheilS who summoned them. Then
came the sheik's eNhorta ton, and the
description of their desert journey,
which was to occupy many months.
Incidents by the way-heat, thirst,
noise and dust by day, and the eternal
silence Of the desert by night, the
brightness of the stars, the waxing and
waning of the moon, the hardships, ex-
citements, plenty and poverty of condi-
tion-were, each in turn, graphically
described, to the same weird accom-
paninent.
Hour after hour this went on, the
bard's eye cleaning and his voice
growing stronger and stronger, until
I was almost stunned by it's thunder
ing monotone. Meanwhile the tribes
men, shifting excitedly in their seats,
and uttering quick CALCULATIONS of ap-
proval, constituted scene which kept
me spellbound. Eventually, in the mar
rative, Tunis was reached, and the
horde of Arabs encamped beneath it's
walls.
1t was now midnight, and for four
long hours had listened to this WON
derful epic; but realizing that was too
thoroughly exhausted for further
amusement I decided to turn in,'
and getting up, left the assembly in
the zenith of their excitement and graf
ification.-R. Talbot Kelly, in Century.