342 FROM NORTH POLE TO EQUATOR. 



how they got there? Perhaps the sand-storm sowed the seeds, 

 which first germinated by the well, and grew into plants, with 

 leaves, flowers, and another generation of seeds which were scattered 

 through whole valleys. It is certain, at least, that they were not 

 planted by men, for the mimosas which form the greater part of the 

 little colony occur also in springless hollows, where one sees them 

 sometimes singly, sometimes forming a small thicket of ten or 

 twenty. They alone are able to keep life awake in the desert; 

 they put forth green leaves, they blossom and send forth fragrance 

 — how fresh and balmy! In their pleasant shade the gazelle rests; 

 from their tops resound the songs of the few feathered songsters of 

 the desert. The sappy leaves, seen amid the stiff masses of lime- 

 stone, the cones of black granite, and the dazzling sand, do the eyes 

 good like a meadow in May; their flowers as well as their shade 

 refresh the soul. 



In the larger, more copiously watered oases, men have planted 

 palms, which lend a fresh charm to the settlement. The palm is here 

 all in all: it is the queen of trees, the giver of fruit which sustains 

 man and binds him to his little spot of earth, the tree around which 

 saga and song are twined, the tree of life. What would an oasis be 

 without palms ? A tent without a roof, a house without inmate, a 

 well without water, a poem without words, a song without tune, a 

 picture without colour. The palm's fruits feed the nomad herdsman 

 and the settler alike, they become wheat or barley in his hand, they 

 satisfy even the tax-gatherer of his lord and master. Its stems, its 

 crown, its narrow leaves supply him with shelter and utensils, mats, 

 baskets, and sacks, ropes and cords. In the sandy desert one first 

 appreciates its full worth and importance, it becomes the visible 

 emblem of Arabian poetry, which rises like it from frequently 

 barren ground, which grows strong and fades not, which raises 

 itself on high, and there only bears sweet fruit. 



Mimosas and palms are the characteristic trees of all oases, and 

 are never absent from those which have so many springs or wells 

 that gardens and fields become possible. Here they are restricted, 

 like outposts against the invading sand, to the outer fringe of the 

 desert island, while the interior is adorned with more exacting plants 



