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Updated: June 18, 2025
When Domini inquired after Hadj he showed majestic indifference, and when she hinted at his crafty share in the causing of the tragedy he calmly replied, "Hadj-ben-Ibrahim will know from henceforth whether the Mehari with the swollen tongue can bite."
He cheered her by describing the interest of the journey when, by and by, she would ride a mehari, sitting in a bassour, made of branches heated and bent into shape like a great cage, lined and draped with soft haoulis of beautiful colours, and comfortably cushioned. It would not be long now before they should come to the douar of his father the Agha, beyond El Aghouat.
I was amusing myself a little. Pardon me." Just then the girth of one of the baggage camels, evidently not well fastened, came loose. Part of the load slipped and fell to the ground. Eg-Anteouen descended instantly from his beast and helped Bou-Djema repair the damage. When they had finished, I made my mehari walk beside Bou-Djema's. "It will be better to resaddle the camels at the next stop.
The lounging Negro, who had let him in before, stared at the grey mehari with the red-curtained bassour, whose imposing height dwarfed the Roumi's horse. No doubt the man wondered why it was there, since only women or invalids travelled in a bassour; and his eyes dwelt with interest on the two Arabs from the town of Oued Tolga.
"The camel which carries your baggage belongs to you as much as does your own mehari," I answered coldly. We stood there several minutes without speaking. Morhange maintained an uneasy silence; I was examining my map.
Duveyrier states that to them is due the preservation of the ancient Libyan and Berber writings. “Leaving domestic work to their slaves, the Targui ladies occupy themselves with reading, writing, music and embroidery; they live as intelligent aristocrats.” “The ladies of the tribe of Ifoghas, in particular, are renowned for their savoirvivre and their musical talent; they know how to ride mehari better than all their rivals.
Sometimes came caravans, in this billowing immensity between the M'Zab and Ouargla city of Solomon, whither the Queen of Sheba rode on her mehari: caravans blazing red and yellow, which swept like slow lines of flame across the desert, going east towards the sunrise, or west where the sunset spreads over the sky like a purple fan opening, or the tail of a celestial peacock.
"Leaders of camels sing," he said, "to make the beasts' burdens weigh less heavily. But thy mehari has no burden. Thou in thy bassour art lighter on his back than a feather on the wing of a dove. My song is for my own heart, and for thine heart, if thou wilt have it, not for Guelbi, though the meaning of Guelbi is 'heart of mine."
"And my mehari?" he asked. I explained that our guide was then employed in trying to save his beast. He in turn told us how it had stumbled, and fallen into the current, and he himself, in trying to save it, had been knocked over. His forehead had struck a rock. He had cried out. After that he remembered nothing more. "What is your name?" I asked. "Eg-Anteouen." "What tribe do you belong to?"
It was Maïeddine's camel that went down, shot in the neck. He had been keeping El Biod in reserve, when the splendid stallion might be needed for two to ride away in haste his master and a woman. As the mehari fell, Maïeddine escaped from the saddle and alighted on his feet, his blue Touareg veil disarranged by the shock.
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