b THE CAMEL. 



neither so large nor so strong as the former. Both races, 

 however, intermix; and their produce is reckoned more 

 valuable than the pure breed of either. The dromedary, 

 indeed, is by far the more numerous, and extends over 

 spacious regions; while the camel is very scarce, except in 

 Turkey and the Levant. Neither of them can subsist or 

 propagate in the variable climates of the north ; and they 

 seem intended by Providence for the service of those 

 countries, in which no other animals are qualified to 

 supersede their utility. 



The camel has a small head, short ears, and a long bend- 

 ing neck. Its height to the top of the hunch is about six 

 feet and a half; the colour of the hair on the protuberance 

 is dusky, and that on the other parts is reddish ash. It 

 has a long tail, small hoofs, and flat feet, divided above, 

 but not separated. On the legs are six hard swellings ; 

 and, besides the four stomachs which all ruminating quad- 

 rupeds possess, it has a fifth, which serves as a reservoir 

 for carrying a supply of water, in the sandy parched 

 deserts which it is obliged to traverse. 



The camel is considered by the Arabians as a sacred 

 animal, without whose help the natives could neither 

 subsist, traffic, or travel ; its milk makes a part of their 

 nourishment ; they feed upon its flesh, particularly when 

 young ; they clothe themselves with its hair, which it is 

 seen to shed regularly once a year, and if they fear an 

 invading enemy, their camels serve them in flight, and in 

 a single day, they are known to travel above a hundred 

 miles. Thus, by means of the camel, an Arabian finds 

 safety in his deserts ; all the armies upon earth might 

 be lost in the pursuit of a flying squadron of this country, 

 mounted upon their camels, and taking refuge in solitudes, 

 where nothing interposes to stop their flight, or to force 

 them to await their invader. Nothing can be more dreary 

 than the aspect of these sandy plains, that seem entirely 

 forsaken of life and vegetation : wherever the eye turns, 

 nothing is presented but a sterile and dusty soil, sometimes 

 torn up by the winds, and moving in great waves along, 

 which, when viewed from an eminence, resemble less 

 the earth than the ocean; here and there a few shrubs 

 appear, that only teach us to wish for the grove, that 

 reminds us of the shade in these sultry climates, without 

 affording its refreshment ; the return of morning, which 

 in other places, carries an idea of cheerfulness, here serves 

 only to enlighten the endless and dreary waste, and to 



