The cave dwellers of southern Tunisia; recollections of a sojourn with the khalifa of Matmata; . ched in a wretched hut, which seemed to methen the perfection of comfort, I >sat writing by thelight of u tiickering candle at the village of Zaraua,on the top of a mountain of the Matmata range,south of Gabes. Outside I could hear my horse munching, ashe stood, his well-earned barley ; farther away dogswere barking. The moon sent her rays through mydoorway ; and now and then came to my ear thesound of human voices, but this soon ceased as thesun had lomr since set: for in these regions allretir
The cave dwellers of southern Tunisia; recollections of a sojourn with the khalifa of Matmata; . ched in a wretched hut, which seemed to methen the perfection of comfort, I >sat writing by thelight of u tiickering candle at the village of Zaraua,on the top of a mountain of the Matmata range,south of Gabes. Outside I could hear my horse munching, ashe stood, his well-earned barley ; farther away dogswere barking. The moon sent her rays through mydoorway ; and now and then came to my ear thesound of human voices, but this soon ceased as thesun had lomr since set: for in these regions allretire to rest early so as to rise at dayljreak. The two previous days had sped as in a fairytale. As I opened my window at the Hotel dcrOasis at on the 17th October, it wasstill half-dark, but I could distinguish a little waydt)wn the street an Aralj horse, saddled, and l)y itsside a white l)undle lying on tlie footway. It wasHamed, the Arab horseman, whom the bureau derenseignement had placed at my disposal, and whowas now waiting for five oclock, the hour fixed for 32 > ^ ?^ »O. ti H 55 PhWS o CC feO ^3 FROM GABES TO THE MATMATA MOUNTAINS OD our start. A little later arrived my brown steed,supplied by the Spalii regiment. My small travelling kit, photographic ap})aratus,and breakfast were packed on Hameds horse. Therevolver I slung on my own saddle, little realisingthat the same afternoon I should fire it on a festiveoccasion ; and w^e started, wending our way amongstthe showy, newly-built European houses. Outside the town, the country is somewhat flat;we followed the road. To our right, towards thenorth, was Gabes winding river, but invisible to us,as it lies low. On the other side, the palm grovesshowed us a dark forest. The villages by the riverstood out clearly against this dark background, andthe risino; sun shone on the white kubba to our leftof Sid Bul Baba. On the road we met little groups of nativesdriving camels and tiny donkeys, all laden withesparto stra
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookpublisheretcetc, bookyear189
