334 FROM NORTH POLE TO EQUATOR. 



beasts, why he compares the eyes which kindle fires in his heart 

 to those of the gazelle, why he likens the neck around which he 

 throws his arms in love's secret hour to that of the swiftest of 

 the desert's children, why the nomad brings a tame gazelle to the 

 tent of his gladly -expectant spouse, that she may gaze into its 

 tender eyes and reflect their beauty on the hoped-for pledge of their 

 wedlock, and why even the sacred poet finds in the fair creature 

 a visible emblem of his longing after the Most High. For even 

 he, removed from the world, must have felt a breath of the passion 

 which has purified the words and made smooth the verses and 

 rhymes of the fiery songs in praise of the gazelle. 



Less attractive, but by no means less interesting, are some other 

 desert animals. Among the sparsely sprouting alfa there is a 

 numerous flock of birds about the size of pigeons. Tripping hither 

 and thither, scratching and scraping with their bills, they seek for 

 food. Without anxiety they allow the rider to approach within a 

 distance of a hundred paces. A good field -glass enables one to see 

 not only every movement, but also the more prominent colours of 

 their plumage. With depressed head, retracted neck, and body held 

 almost horizontally, they run about in search of seeds, the few 

 grains which the desert grasses bear, freshly unfolded panicles, and 

 insects. Some stretch out their necks from time to time and peer 

 circumspectly around, others, quite careless, paddle in the sand, 

 preening their feathers, or lie at ease, half sideways, in the sun. 

 All this one can distinctly see, and one can count that there are over 

 fifty, perhaps nearly a hundred. What sportsman would their pre- 

 sence not excite? Sure of his booty, the inexperienced traveller 

 shuts up his field-glass, gets hold of his gun, and slowly approaches 

 the gay company. But the birds disappear before his eyes. None 

 has run or flown, yet none is to be seen. It seems as if the earth 

 had swallowed them. The fact is that, trusting to the likeness 

 between their plumage and the ground, they have simply squatted. 

 In a moment they have become stones and little heaps of sand. 

 Ignorant of this, the sportsman rides in upon them, and is startled 

 when they rise with simultaneous suddenness, and loudly calling 

 and scolding, take wing and fly noisily away. But if he should 



