El Haj was a very different type from Aissa.
The latter was an Arab who had been born and
brought up in the oases, and as he had lived for two
or three years as a servant in different hotels and
private families, had become to a certain extent
Europeanised. El Haj, on the other hand, had
spent the whole of his life in the desert, living with
his father and tending his herds of camels and goats.
He was about twenty years of age, tall and straight
as a lance. He had never spoken to or had any
dealings with a European until Aissa brought him
out with me. He was, in fact, about as wild and
untamed a ‘young blackguard as it would be possible
to find.
I and my actions and belongings were at first a
continual source of interest and mystery to him.
During the first week of our journey he hardly took
his eyes off me, and when we stayed in a caravanserai
seized every opportunity to come into my room.
He would pick up the different articles of my clothing
when he thought I was not looking, and
examine them minutely, with a mixture of awe,
amusement, and curiosity which it was very ludicrous
to see.
He could not understand me at all. Why a
man should eat with a knife and fork instead of
with his fingers, why he should comb his hair
instead of shaving it off, why he should be so particular
about having his boots and clothes brushed,
and why in the name of Allah, Mohammed, and
all the saints in the Moslem calendar he should
want to go to the trouble of washing, unless he
were going to say his prayers, he could not in the
least understand.
His name—El Haj—signifies * the pilgrim,’ and
is, it is perhaps hardly necessary to explain, the
appellation which is affixed as a sort of title to the
name of any Mohammedan who has made the
pilgrimage to Mecca. As El Haj was only twenty
years of age, and certainly not overburdened with
this world’s goods, I was at a loss to understand
how he had come by the right to use this distinction
until Aissa explained to me that he was so called
after his grandfather, who had been a real pilgrim.
El Haj spoke with that musical high-pitched
voice occasionally to be found among the desert
inhabitants. Arabic is not a pretty language. As a
rule when an Arab speaks he gargles the words in
his throat, swears like a cat on the ‘ ’ain,’ coughs
the % H’s,’ clears his throat on the ‘ G-’s,’ and spits
on the * D’s ’ and ‘ T’s.’ But somehow when these
desert Arabs speak, with their soft melodious voices
and sing-song intonation, Arabic loses all its harshness
and sounds quite a pretty and musical language.
El Haj’s duties were primarily to take charge of
the camel, to drive him out to feed in the evening
on the desert scrub, to walk behind him during the
daytime and whack him, swear at him, and twist
his tail to make him g o ; and all these duties he
performed to admiration.
But in his other work he was not so successful.
He was also supposed to assist Aissa in his cooking
and scullery work. At this he was a dismal failure,