346 THE BEDOUIN'S FAMILY 



had escaped from the women's end of the khan, came run- 

 ning out into the enclosure. I beckoned to them, and they 

 came to me ; but my conversation with them was as lim- 

 ited as it would have been Avith a French dog or cat. 

 By-the-way, do you know the French, or German, or Ital- 

 ian, or Spanish equivalent of " Pussy, pussy, pussy ?" I 

 have frequently been stumped in my attempted conversa- 

 tions Avith foreign animals by lack of knowledge of their 

 patois. And they resent the foreign tone or words more 

 than children. Well, as I said, the little girls came to me 

 and were soon reconciled by a bit of chocolate. I always 

 carry chocolate in my pocket on a tramp. Half a cubic 

 inch of good chocolate — I like Menier the best, though 

 this is not a paid advertisement — will stay the stomach 

 better than anything I know. The little girls, despite 

 their odd garments, were just like children anywhere , but 

 soon a serving-man came and lugged them away. There 

 were, I have no doubt, a number of women in the khan, 

 but while I was there not a sight of them could I get. 

 All the service was by men. I dare say I was wise not 

 to make inquiries. I might have offended the sense of 

 propriety of my delightful host. 



To return to the Bedouin, I am told that he pays con- 

 siderable heed to his wives and daughters ; his first wife 

 is held in special honor, and really rules his house — or, as 

 he lives in tents, one might say, his outfit. With the Syri- 

 an Bedouin the woman has the same soul that Allah gave 

 the man. She works, but is not degraded to a state of 

 slavery. Her toil is mostly within the tent, but it may be 

 with the herds. In any event, the man does the heavy 

 work, the woman merely helps. 



