there is considerable uncertainty about the proper rendering. It runs as follows: "And he wrote in king Ahasuerus' name, and sealed it with the king's ring, and sent letters and posts on horseback, and riders on mules, camels, and young dromedaries." The Jewish Bible, however, translates this passage as follows: "And sent letters by the runners on the horses, and riders on the racers, mules, and young mares." Now, the word rekesh, which is translated as "racer," is rendered by Buxtorf as "a swift horse or mule," and the word beni-rammachim, which is translated as "young mares," literally signifies "those born of mares." The Camel-drivers behave towards their animals with the curious inconsistency which forms so large a part of the Oriental character. Prizing them above nearly all earthly things, proud of them, and loving them after their own fashion, the drivers will talk to them, cheer them, and sing interminable songs for their benefit. Towards the afternoon the singing generally begins, and it goes on without cessation in sort of monotonous hum, as Dr. Bonar calls it. The same traveller calls attention to a passage in Caussinus' "Polyhistor Symbolicus," in which the learned and didactic author symbolizes the maxim that more can be done by kindness than by blows. "The Camel is greatly taken with music and melody. So much so, indeed, that if it halts through weariness, the driver does not urge it with stripes and blows, but soothes it by his songs." Several travellers have mentioned these songs. See, for example, Miss Rogers' account of some Bedouins: "Their songs were already subdued to harmonize with their monotonous swinging pace, and chimed softly and plaintively with the tinkling of camel-bells, thus "Dear unto me as the sight of mine eyes, Art thou, O my Camel! Precious to me as the health of my life, Art thou, O my Camel! Sweet to my ears is the sound Of thy tinkling bells, O my Camel! And sweet to thy listening ears And so on, ad libitum." Sometimes a female Camel gives birth to a colt on the journey. In such a case, a brief pause is made, and then the train proceeds on its journey, the owner of the Camel carrying the young one in his arms until the evening halt. He then gives it to its mother, and on the following day it is able to follow her without further assistance. The young Camels are almost pretty, their hair being paler than that of the adult animal, and their limbs more slender. Although the young Camel is better-looking than its parents, it is not one whit more playful. Unlike almost all other animals, the Camel seems to have no idea of play, and even the young Camel of a month or two old follows its mother with the same steady, regular pace which she herself maintains. In spite of all the kindness with which a driver treats his Camels, he can at times be exceedingly cruel to them, persisting in over-loading and over-driving them, and then, if a Camel fall exhausted, removing its load, and distributing it among the other Camels. As soon as this is done, he gives the signal to proceed, and goes on his way, abandoning the wretched animal to its fate-i.e. to thirst and the vultures. He will not even have the humanity to kill it, but simply leaves it on the ground, muttering that it is "his fate!" THE CAMEL. CHAPTER II. The Camel and its master-Occasional fury of the animal-A boy killed by a Camel-Another instance of an infuriated Camel-Theory respecting the Arab and his Camel-Apparent stupidity of the Camel-Its hatred of a load, and mode of expressing its disapprobation-Riding a Camel through the streets-A narrow escape-Ceremony of weaning a young Camel-The Camel's favourite food-Structure of the foot and adaptation to locality--Difficulty in provisioning-Camel's hair and skin-Sal-ammoniac and Desert fuel-The Camel and the needle's eye-Straining at a guat and swallowing a Camel. We now come to the general characteristics of the Camel. The Camels know their master well, some of them being much more affectionate than others. But they are liable to fits of strange fury, in which case even their own masters are not safe from them. They are also of a revengeful nature, and have an unpleasant faculty of treasuring up an injury until they can find a time of repaying it. Signor Pierotti gives a curious. example of this trait of character. As he was going to the Jordan, he found a dead Camel lying on the roadside, the head nearly separated from the body. On inquiry he found that the animal had a master who ill-treated it, and had several times tried to bite him. One evening, after the Camels had been unloaded, the drivers lay down to sleep as usual. The Camel made its way to its master, and stamped on him as he slept. The man uttered one startled cry, but had no time for another. The infuriated Camel followed up its attack by grasping his throat in its powerful jaws, and shaking him to death. The whole scene passed so rapidly, that before the other drivers could come to the man's assistance he was hanging dead from the jaws of the Camel, who was shaking him as a dog shakes a rat, and would not release its victim until its head had been nearly severed from its body by sword-cuts. A similar anecdote is told by Mr. Palgrave, in his "Central and Eastern Arabia :" "One passion alone he possesses, namely, revenge, of which he gives many a hideous example; while, in carrying it out, he shows an unexpected degree of forethoughted malice, united meanwhile with all the cold stupidity of his usual character. One instance of this 1 well remember-it occurred hard by a small town in the plain of Baalbec, where I was at the time residing. "A lad of about fourteen had conducted a large camel, laden with wood, from that very village to another at half an hour's distance or so. As the animal loitered or turned out of the way, its conductor struck it repeatedly, and harder than it seems to have thought he had a right to do. But, not finding the occasion favourable for taking immediate quits, it 'bided its time,' nor was that time long in coming. "A few days later, the same lad had to re-conduct the beast, but unladen, to his own village. When they were about half way on the road, and at some distance from any habitation, the camel suddenly stopped, looked deliberately round in every direction to assure itself that no one was in sight, and, finding the road clear of passers-by, made a step forward, seized the unlucky boy's head in its monstrous mouth, and, lifting him up in the air, flung him down again on the earth, with the upper part of his head completely torn off, and his brains scattered on the ground. Having thus satisfied its revenge, the brute quietly resumed its pace towards the village, as though nothing were the matter, till some men, who had observed the whole, though unfortunately at too great a distance to be able to afford timely help, came up and killed it. "Indeed, so marked is this unamiable propensity, that some philosophers have ascribed the revengeful character of the Arabs. to the great share which the flesh and milk of the camel have in their sustenance, and which are supposed to communicate, to those who partake of them over-largely, the moral or immoral qualities of the animal to which they belonged. I do not feel myself capable of pronouncing an opinion on so intricate a question, but thus much I can say, that the camel and its Bedouin master do afford so many and such divers points of resemblance, that I do not think our Arab of Shomer far in the wrong, when I once on a time heard him say, 'God created the Bedouin for the camel, and the camel for the Bedouin.'" The reader will observe that Mr. Palgrave in this anecdote makes reference to the stupidity of the Camel. There is no doubt that the Camel is by no means an intellectual animal; but it is very possible that its stupidity may in a great measure be owing to the fact that no one has tried to cultivate its intellectual powers. The preceding anecdotes show clearly that the Camel must possess a strong memory, and be capable of exercising considerable ingenuity. Still it is not a clever animal. If its master should fall off its back, it never dreams of stopping, as a well-trained horse would do, but proceeds at the same plodding pace, leaving his master to catch it if he can. Should it turn out of the way to crop some green thorn-bush, it will go on in the same direction, never thinking of turning back into the right road unless directed by its rider. Should the Camel stray, "it is a thousand to one that he will never find his way back to his accustomed home or pasture, and the first man who picks him up will have no particular shyness to get over; . . . and the losing of his old master and of his former cameline companions gives him no regret, and occasions no endeavour to find them again." He has the strongest objection to being laden at all, no matter how light may be the burden, and expresses his disapprobation by growling and groaning, and attempting to bite. So habitual is this conduct that if a kneeling Camel be only approached, and a stone as large as a walnut laid on its back, it begins to remonstrate in its usual manner, groaning as if it were crushed to the earth with its load. The Camel never makes way for any one, its instinct leading it to plod onward in its direct course. What may have been its habits in a state of nature no one can tell, for such a phenomenon as a wild Camel has never been known in the memory of man. There are wild oxen, wild goats, wild sheep, wild horses, and wild asses, but there is no spot on the face of the earth where the Camel is found except as the servant of man. Through innate stupidity, according to Mr. Palgrave, it goes straight forwards in the direction to which its head happens to be pointed, and is too foolish even to think of stopping unless it hears the signal for halt. As it passes through the narrow streets of an Oriental city, laden with goods that project on either side, and nearly fill up the thoroughfare, it causes singular inconvenience, forcing every one who is in front of it to press himself closely to the wall, and to make way for the enormous beast as it plods along. The driver or rider generally gives notice by continually calling to the pedestrians to get out of the way, but a laden Camel rarely passes through a long street without having knocked down a man or two, or driven before it a few riders on asses who cannot pass between the Camel and the wall. One source of danger to its rider is to be found in the low archways which span so many of the streets. They are just high enough to permit a laden Camel to pass under them, but are so low that they leave no room for a rider. The natives, who are accustomed to this style of architecture, are always ready for an archway, and, when the rider sees an archway which will not allow him to retain his seat, he slips to the ground, and remounts on the other side of the obstacle. Mr. Kennard had a very narrow escape with one of these archways. "I had passed beneath one or two in perfect safety, without being obliged to do more than just bend my head forward, and was in the act of conversing with one of my companions behind, |