The
fierce glow set fire to the black rocks which pointed up like dragons'
teeth, and turned them to glittering copper; polishing the dead white
chalk of the chebka to the dull gleam of dirty silver. Far away there
were always purple hills, behind which it seemed that hope and beauty
might come to life again; but travelling from morning to night they
never appeared any nearer. The evil magic of the black desert, which
Maieddine called accursed because of the M'Zabites, made the beautiful
hills recede always, leaving only the ugly brown waves of hardened
earth, which were disheartening to climb, painful to descend.
At last, in the midst of black squalor, they came to an oasis like a
bright jewel fallen in the trough of swine. It was Berryan, the first
town of the M'Zabites, people older than the Arabs, and hated by them
with a hatred more bitter than their loathing for Jews.
Maieddine would not pass through the town, since it could be avoided,
because in his eyes the Beni-M'Zab were dogs, and in their eyes he,
though heir to an agha, would be as carrion.
Sons of ancient Phoenicians, merchants of Tyre and Carthage, there never
had been, never would be, any lust for battle in the hearts of the
M'Zabites. Their warfare had been waged by cunning, and through
mercenaries. They had fled before Arab warriors, driven from place to
place by brave, scornful enemies, and now, safely established in their
seven holy cities, protected by vast distances and the barrier of the
black desert, they revenged their wrongs with their wits, being rich,
and great usurers.
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