expressive of the delicacy and devotedness which is expected from friendship. They may be thus translated: The friend that walks not blind at friendship's side; That offers not his life a sacrifice; That deems such suicide to be a crime- The summons of my friend I will obey, Or gain the day. The least of all the things DIVISION OF BOOTY. Nothing more strikingly illustrates the proverb of 'honour among thieves,' than the even-handed justice with which the spoils of an enemy, whether taken in razzia or open warfare, are apportioned among the victors. In the former case, the whole is divided into equal shares corresponding with the number engaged; but in the latter, every man retains whatever he has taken in personal clothing and weapons; while tents, flocks, horses, asses, camels, webs, and cereals, form the general property for division; and the chief is entitled, over and above his share, to thirty or forty sheep, or three or four camels, as the case may be. There are also other special claims, which are met by special provisions. For instance, a horseman who kills another in battle, is entitled to the horse as well as the equipments of him he has slain; it is deemed a small enough compensation for the hazard he has encountered, and the responsibility he has incurred. He has risked a life,' say the Arabs, ‘and taken a life; and he will have to answer to God for the death he has dealt, whether right or wrong.' If a warrior has been killed by several individuals who fired together, so that it cannot be ascertained whose was the fatal shot, the plunder is equally shared between them. In some tribes, it is given to the chief. If one has killed a man without observing his success and securing the spoil, he obtains compensation if the fact is afterwards attested by competent witnesses. 6 If an individual, not choosing to go against the enemy in person, lends his horse to another, he shares equally in what falls to him. If the animal perishes in a successful expedition, the owner is reimbursed from the general stock; but if there is none, he receives no compensation: 'he tried his luck, and lost.' He who lends a saddle with all its accessories, receives the half; and he who lends a gun, the fourth part of the share of him who borrowed it. An Arab whose tribe is going to war, finds a horse grazing far from his master's sight; he takes the loan of it, and borrows a saddle. The saddle is not furnished; he finds stirrups in one place, a girth in another, a bridle and breast-leather somewhere else. When he returns with booty, the owner receives no share; he did not voluntarily lend his horse, he ran no risk, for had it been killed he would have been compensated. It is led back safe and sound. The animal,' say the Arabs,' has been but the instrument of Heaven to serve a brave man, who exposed himself for the general good.' The proprietors of the horse's equipments, however, must receive part of his share in proportion to the value of what they lent. There is an apologue quite in Arab taste, setting forth these respective claims: The saddle said to the horseman: "Hast thou the conscience to keep all the booty to thyself? Who furnished thee with a seat? What wouldst thou have done if thou hadst not found me there?” Very fine," cried the girth. "Is it so very great a service thou hast done? Thou wouldst have done more harm than good, had I not kept thee on the horse's back." 66 "Softly, softly," said the stirrups. "You have both been useful, I agree; but pray tell me who supported the horseman when it was necessary for him to dash forward? And on what was he supported when he had to use his arm to overthrow the enemy about whose spoil you are disputing? Who gave him facilities for sinking to avoid a blow, and rising to inflict one?" "It was you, to be sure," said the bridle: "none can dispute it; and nevertheless, my children, by God, the governor of the world, our horseman would have enriched himself but little had he only had your services; you seldom take the path that leads to booty, and you would have been far from it now had I not guided you. Cease, then, your disputes; the palm is mine, for I alone led to the attainment of the end." "Ah! this is somewhat strong reasoning," ironically added the horse, which till now had listened in silence. "I know not why I had supposed the greater part to be mine; I thought you were forgotten in a corner, and were only collected because I was found. I was dreaming, no doubt; it was you, of course, that brought me here. I was mistaken, I confess lead me back quickly to my pasture; there at least I shall not hear your intriguing." : 'To end all disputes, the cavalier divided his prize into six equal shares; he gave one to the saddle, one to the girth, one to the bridle, kept three to himself, and led back the horse to graze, saying: "I give thee nothing, but there remains with thee the honour of having been serviceable to thy tribe." A special lot is always allowed to the shuafin who have acted as spies before the battle; it is the just recompense of the danger they encountered. If a shuaf has lost his horse, they either give him another or compensate him with a hundred sheep or a hundred Spanish dollars. This is not too much; for they always choose their scouts from among the best mounted of the tribe. He who supplies provisions also receives a share, for he has identified his interests with those of the expedition. A share is allotted to each of the farriers of the tribe; their labour and skill have contributed to the success of the enterprise. The handsome females who have animated the combat are entitled to a share; who can tell how much their presence contributed to the victory? A lot, too, is appointed for whatever woman of distinction sallied first out of her tent to welcome the returning conquerors. To prevent disputes in the adjustment of these various claims, it is usual to institute a mekadim. Sometimes it is the chiefs who choose five or six men of repute for their wisdom and integrity, and let them divide the whole; sometimes the plunder is divided into four equal portions, and the warriors divide themselves into four companies, each of which chooses a mekadim, to carry on the subdivision. The first business of the mekadim is to set apart the camels which were vowed to the maraboots at the outset and to seek out and restore all illicit spoil, as female garments and ornaments. When an Arab is suspected of a delinquency of this nature, and yet the articles cannot be found with him, the mekadim adjure him by Sidi-ben-Abd-Allah, and this exonerates him. This saint is in high veneration, and no one would dare to invoke him in a false assertion, for fear of dying, or at least seeing his flocks perish. The mekadim are handsomely remunerated, frequently receiving odd articles of value that cannot easily be divided. We have met with a poem by the famous Abd-el-Kader, which so characteristically displays the feelings of the Arab about his nomadic life of independence, in contrast with that of the citizen, that we have endeavoured to render part of it into English blank verse. O thou whose song is all of city life, Who scorn'st the Bedouin's love of boundless range, Are all thy raptures kept for stone and mud? Ah, if thou knew'st our desert! But thou know'st not; If e'er thine eyes had oped in Sahara, If e'er thy foot had trod its beauteous sands, Bedecked with flowers, as carpet strewn with pearls, From merkeb* height thine eye had wandered round, Hadst thou at dawn hied to the chase with us, Are strapped on every camel, thou wouldst swear *Hillock of sand. † Décampment of a tribe. Thou saw'st a field of rich anemones Window or bull's-eye. + Veils. The gazelle is the perfumer of the desert, leaving on its track a substance whose smell resembles musk. OW interesting is the Ocean!-perhaps the most interesting of all the wonders of nature. The vast expanse of waters stretching far beyond the reach of vision, presents to our eyes a picture of immensity that awes the mind; and its unfathomable depths involve so much of mystery as to charm and overpower the imagination. Its mood and aspect, too, rouse curiosity and invite contemplation by ceaseless change: now rushing and roaring, as it does, in tremendous mountain billows, when the fierce hurricane careers over its surface; now dancing with crest of foam before a gladsome breeze, to fling itself on the shore with noisy playfulness; now lying still in a calm, as profoundly peaceful as though it had gone to sleep never more to waken. To the poet, the ocean offers an image of eternity, at once 'beautiful, sublime, and glorious,' inspiring deep emotions; the painter's eye never tires of No. 61, 1 |