MY FRIEND MOHAMMED-BEN-OUMBARK. 315 



One evening, when Mohammed was blowing a coal on the 

 hearth of one of his mountain acquaintances, who owned a 

 horse by far too good for one of his condition, there suddenly 

 arose the sound of voices in the yard, and a knocking was 

 heard at the door. In an instant, the four or five men who 

 were asleep on the floor, sprung to their feet, but while they 

 were groping about, Mohammed had opened the door, and 

 found two horsemen that stood asking hospitality and holding 

 the bridles of their horses. Mohammed said in a disguised 

 voice, " God be with you, enter, and I will take care of your 

 horses." 



The strangers resigned the bridles of their animals to the 

 hospitable Kabyle, as they supposed him to be, and entered 

 the house. Mohammed swung himself into one of the sad- 

 dles, and leading the second horse by his bridle, swept down 

 to the plain. As he rode away, he called to the proprietor 

 of the house, " Take good care of your guests : Mohammed- 

 ben-Oumbark will take care of their horses !" 



But this good fortune did not always await such laudable 

 industry, and during the course of his life, my honest friend 

 had received so many bullets and sabre cuts, that they would 

 have killed any more prudent . man. One day I asked him 

 how it was that he, who must so often have met lions on his 

 nocturnal excursions, managed always to come off free: he 

 answered with enthusiasm : 



" The lion is everything, and man is nothing. 'Tis only the 

 lion that knows how to impose respect and fear — man ought 

 to be governed by a lion." 



"Then, you never had any cause of complaint against 

 him ?" 



" No ; on the contrary, he has always aided me in my 

 forays, and carried disorder and terror* to the douar, that I 

 might walk by his side, and take what I chose. 



" While he killed for his good pleasure, I stole for 



