Oh, how high in the air she felt when Guelbi
was up, ready to start! She had had no idea that he was such a tall,
moving tower, under the bassour.
"What a sky-scraping camel!" she exclaimed. And then had to explain to
Maieddine what she meant; for though he knew Paris, for him America
might as well have been on another planet.
He rode beside Victoria's mehari, when good-byes had been said,
blessings exchanged, and the little caravan had started. Looking out
between the haoulis which protected her from sun and wind, the handsome
Arab on his Arab horse seemed far below her, as Romeo must have seemed
to Juliet on her balcony; and to him the fair face, framed with dazzling
hair was like a guiding star.
"Thou canst rest in thy bassour?" he asked. "The motion of thy beast
gives thee no discomfort?"
"No. Truly it is a cradle," she answered. "I had read that to ride on a
camel was misery, but this is like being rocked on the bough of a tree
when the wind blows."
"To sit in a bassour is very different from riding on a saddle, or even
on a mattress, as the poor Bedouin women sometimes ride, or the dancers
journeying from one place to another. I would not let thee travel with
me unless I had been able to offer thee all the luxuries which a sultana
might command. With nothing less would I have been content, because to
me thou art a queen."
"At least thou hast given me a beautiful moving throne," laughed
Victoria; "and because thou art taking me on it to my sister, I'm happy
to-day as a queen.
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