DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.5073#0386
THE ANAZEHS.
37:5
what a man gains by his own prowess he is entitled to
keep, though he generally makes an offering of some
part of it to the Sheikh. One evening, just at dark,
when we were seated round our dinner, a heavy
cloud broke into rain: we hastily concluded the soon-
diluted soup, and retreated under our carpets; but the
Sheikh ran joyfully up the bank, and stood there with'
a light heart, watching the clouds, and listening to the
thunder as sweet music, praising Allah for His good-
ness, and calling out to assure us that we should have
a thorough wet night! We were as glad as possible,
under the circumstances — all the more as we had for-
tunately that day purchased a nice, thick Tadmor
carpet, which, however, did not prevent the rain from
soaking down in little lakes underneath us. But the
next morning all was dry; it had rained but an hour or
two, and the Sheikh was as sad as ever: " Mash-
allah! it is God's will," was all he said, with the sub-
mission and acquiescence, not fatalism only, of a really
good Mooslim, " and He knows best! " The very next
day we heard a dreadful story. Some Arabs came in
from a journey they had been making, and told the
Sheikh that not very far from Tadmor, only three or
four days' journey, they had come to an encampment of
black Bedoueen tents. The}'- rode on and on, and were
surprised at hearing no barking of dogs — still more at
seeing no smoke from the cooking fires. Puzzled, and
wondering what it could mean, they reached the tents
— still the same silence, and not a moving thing to be
seen. At last they dismounted, stuck their lances in
the ground, and entered one of the tents, with the cus-
tomary " Peace be to all here : " it was peace indeed ;
for, tying on the ground, were stretched the corpses of
women and children in ever}7 tent of the encampment! It
B B 3
37:5
what a man gains by his own prowess he is entitled to
keep, though he generally makes an offering of some
part of it to the Sheikh. One evening, just at dark,
when we were seated round our dinner, a heavy
cloud broke into rain: we hastily concluded the soon-
diluted soup, and retreated under our carpets; but the
Sheikh ran joyfully up the bank, and stood there with'
a light heart, watching the clouds, and listening to the
thunder as sweet music, praising Allah for His good-
ness, and calling out to assure us that we should have
a thorough wet night! We were as glad as possible,
under the circumstances — all the more as we had for-
tunately that day purchased a nice, thick Tadmor
carpet, which, however, did not prevent the rain from
soaking down in little lakes underneath us. But the
next morning all was dry; it had rained but an hour or
two, and the Sheikh was as sad as ever: " Mash-
allah! it is God's will," was all he said, with the sub-
mission and acquiescence, not fatalism only, of a really
good Mooslim, " and He knows best! " The very next
day we heard a dreadful story. Some Arabs came in
from a journey they had been making, and told the
Sheikh that not very far from Tadmor, only three or
four days' journey, they had come to an encampment of
black Bedoueen tents. The}'- rode on and on, and were
surprised at hearing no barking of dogs — still more at
seeing no smoke from the cooking fires. Puzzled, and
wondering what it could mean, they reached the tents
— still the same silence, and not a moving thing to be
seen. At last they dismounted, stuck their lances in
the ground, and entered one of the tents, with the cus-
tomary " Peace be to all here : " it was peace indeed ;
for, tying on the ground, were stretched the corpses of
women and children in ever}7 tent of the encampment! It
B B 3