“Tell the muleteers, Salam,” I said, “that they may have these birds for their supper, and that I hope they will enjoy themselves.”

Salam wore a rather troubled expression, I thought, as he went to the head muleteer and pointed to the spoils.  Then he came back and explained to me that their dietary laws did not allow the Susi to eat anything that had not been killed by bleeding in the orthodox fashion.  Had they been with me, to turn wounded birds to the East and cut their throats in the name of Allah, all would have been well, but birds shot dead were an abomination to the righteous Susi.  They scorned to avail themselves of the excuse afforded by their needs.[50] So my labour had been in vain, and I did not know what to do with the spoil.  But I left the slain in a little heap out of the way of insects and flies, and when we rose in the morning the unorthodox among Hanchen’s inhabitants had apparently solved the problem.

FOOTNOTES: 

[48] The Camel’s Jaw.

[49] “Tuesday market.”

[50] “I find not in that which hath been revealed to me anything forbidden unto the eater ... except it be that which dieth of itself ... or that which is profane, having been slain in the name of some other than God.  But whoso shall be compelled of necessity to eat these things, not lusting nor wilfully transgressing, verily thy Lord will be gracious unto him and merciful.”—­Al Koran, Sura, “Cattle.”

IN THE ARGAN FOREST

[Illustration:  EVENING AT HANCHEN]

CHAPTER XI

IN THE ARGAN FOREST

    Life, even at its greatest and best, may be compared to a froward
    child, who must be humoured and played with till he falls asleep, and
    then the care is over.

    —­Goldsmith.

Early morning found the Tuesday market in full swing, and the town of Hanchen already astir in honour of the occasion.  To realise the importance of the weekly gathering, it is well to remember that a market in the country here is the only substitute for the bazaar of the towns.  Every douar within a ten-mile radius of Hanchen sends men and women to the Tuesday market to buy and sell.  So it befell that the hillside slope, which was bare on the previous afternoon, hummed now like a hive, and was well nigh as crowded.  Rough tents of goats’ or camels’-hair cloth sheltered everything likely to appeal to the native mind and resources,—­tea, sugar, woollen and cotton goods, pottery, sieves, padlocks, and nails being to all appearance the goods most sought after by the country Moor.  Quite a brisk demand for candles prevailed; they were highly-coloured things, thick at the base and tapering to the wick.  There was a good sale too for native butter, that needed careful straining before it could be eaten with comfort,