MY FIRST EXPERIENCE IN LION HUNTING. 227 



stranger, I saw, I confess it frankly, dear reader, as the truth 

 compels me to disclose it, I saw the eyes and white teeth of 

 one of the ugliest dogs in the whole tribe, as he was hauling 

 in my coat-tail, and endeavoring to get a bite at my legs from 

 the other side of the canvas. 



This is a fair specimen of the amiability of these villainous 

 curs, that bite whatever comes within their reach, even their 

 masters, and that are all the while having desperate battles 

 among themselves, where the vanquished are often eaten by 

 the victors. One can understand from this, how doubly 

 unpleasant the familiarity of these animals must be to 

 strangers visiting the douar. About bed-time these gentle- 

 men, I refer to the dogs, climb up on the top of the tents, 

 without doubt hoping thereby to gain a better view of the 

 surrounding landscape. Then the sleeper has to endure over 

 his head a chorus of five or six discordant voices, that join in 

 the uproar that is made the live-long night on the neighbor- 

 ing tents, and altogether forming a noise that would waken 

 the dead. 



If by chance there comes a momentary lull, an Arab who 

 may be sleeping next to you, and whom you thought fast 

 locked in the arms of Morpheus, commences to halloo* with 

 all his strength, whereupon the doggerel is renewed louder 

 than ever. 



Contrary to the habits of other people, noise brings sleep to 

 Arab eyes, and silence awakens them ; which is explained by 

 the necessity they are under of being always on guard. If it 

 happens that some chilly dog takes refuge under the tent to 

 snatch a little rest, he is immediately assailed by the men 



