CHAPTER XVI

ARABIAN ASTUTENESS

“When Silvestre heard that his Government was treating with me,” said Raisuli, “he was very angry, for he had been told nothing about it, and believed that at last the policy which he had recommended would be followed. He sent in his resignation, but Spain would not accept it. Had she done so, the war might never have been fought, for, of all men, Silvestre was most unsuitable for this country.

“There were difficulties also in Azeila, for when Dris er Riffi heard that he was to be supplanted by my brother, Sidi Mohamed, he began to make friends with Spain. Since then, whatever time he can spare from the purpose of enriching himself, he has devoted to preparing traps for my life. Silvestre found him a blade which he had no need to sharpen!

“My brother had hardly started for Azeila when from Ziat, I went to visit some of the Anjera tribe. These people had never been my friends, but, at this moment, there was much hatred against the Christians and, when I received presents and messages from a certain village, I believed it was not so much for my sake as for Islam. I set out on a white horse which was a mark for all the countryside, and with me were Mohamed el Kharaji, who was later killed just outside Tazrut,[52] and perhaps six or seven others. When the sun was high we passed some tents, from which men greeted us, crying, ‘Sit down and rest yourselves. The meat is on the fire and there is nothing lacking but the guests.’ One of my men said, ‘It is the Sherif. Do you not recognise him?’ and the other answered, ‘Allah keep him. We know him, and we know of his journey, and, for that reason, we have prepared food that my lord may bless our tents with his presence.’

“With us it is discourteous to refuse such a request; so we dismounted and sat in the shade of the tents. But as it was cold when the sun was not on us, they said, ‘Come inside, Sidi; all is prepared that you may honour us.’ We sat on sheepskins spread over the mats, and these men, who had come from the plains, told us the news of Azeila and how each night there were shots fired in the neighbourhood of the town. ‘But the war is won, Sidi,’ said one, ‘for the Christians have not yet learned to shoot and the bullet of an Arab is never wasted.’

“Meat was brought and set in front of us, but I was not hungry, for it was early, and a wise man eats at the end of his journey, not in the middle of it. However, it is not polite to refuse what the host offers; so when the sheep, roasted whole with its feet and its head, was placed before me, I took pieces of it in my fingers and ate with much noise, to show my appreciation. As we sat in the tent, with the flaps lifted to let in the air, a dog came up and lay behind me, sniffing at my garments. I thought to myself, ‘Here is a friend in my need,’ and I gave it a piece of meat that it should stay beside me. Ullah, the others ate so heavily that there was not much left of the sheep, and even Mohamed el Kharaji loosed his belt with satisfaction.

“Then my host took up the head of the animal and made great play of cracking it open with his fingers, which is a strong man’s feat and an honour done to the guest, but I noticed that the skull was already split, and I thought, ‘My friend, you are more powerful with your tongue than your hands.’ Then, holding the head in front of me, so that the brains were apparent, he offered it to me, ‘In the name of Allah—with health, with enjoyment.’ I took the brains, as a refusal was not possible, but Allah, in his wisdom, caused there to be pain in my stomach, and I had no desire to eat. I thought, ‘If they are not looking, I will give it to the dog,’ but I expected every man’s eyes to be upon me at this moment of honour. Yet each looked at his fingers or spoke to his neighbour; so my hand stole out quickly, and the dog profited exceedingly. After this the tea came, and there was little ceremony in making it; then suddenly all spoke of the length of my journey and the difficulty of my road. I wondered then if there was an ambush prepared, for the plainsmen are not as loyal to their guests as the mountaineers. So I signalled to el Kharaji, and we rose and went out.

“The horses were brought quickly, and one held my stirrup as I mounted, kissing the skirt of my jellaba—was it not with a kiss that Issa,[53] whom we call ‘the breath of God,’ was betrayed? At that moment the yellow dog who had lain behind me ran out, howling as if a jinn had seized his tail. Someone threw a stone at him, but he paid no heed and, crying mournfully, with lips drawn back and gums bared, he writhed on the ground before us. ‘What has taken him?’ said el Kharaji. ‘Ullah, he has eaten poison!’ The dog raised itself on its haunches, but its hind legs moved no more. Its body was convulsed as if it were about to burst apart, and it died while we watched it. ‘A shot is a more merciful death,’ I said to our host. ‘Remember that when your time comes.’ Our eyes met and, for a minute, the hand of each man felt for his rifle. ‘It was well done, and worthy of your house, O Sheikh; but my life is under the baraka; none but Allah may take it,’ I said. We turned our horses swiftly, but as they would have sprung forward, the Sheikh flung himself on his face in front of me. I pulled my horse aside that its hoofs might not touch him. ‘I will repay your hospitality,’ I said, ‘but not in your house or mine.’

“That was the work of Dris er Riffi, but it was not ended.

“When I returned to Tangier, I heard that Silvestre had been commanded to deal patiently with me, in order that the tribes might be pacified. Ullah, if a man has hunted a fox from its hole and set his dog on its heels, it is too late to tame it! The Colonel had forbidden my brother to visit my family, still imprisoned at Azeila. He wrote that much discourtesy was shown him and that he had been kept waiting with many others outside the door of the Political office. He wrote in his own hand, ‘Finish this matter quickly and let there be an end of it, for it is impossible that fire and water shall exist in the same place.’

“This was difficult for me, because of the hostages held by Silvestre. A son is a warrior and must endure the chances of battle, but women are to be protected, and it was my duty to look after them. Our women fear many things, but most of all the unknown. They are not like the peasants who work in the fields and who know the use of a trigger as well as any man. They are shy when there are strangers without, and their feet are too curved for rough ways. So I was evasive in my answers, saying, ‘Wait until my mourning is over,’ for my mother, the peace of Allah be with her, was dead, and for forty days I might not travel or take part in councils. I wrote carefully to the tribes, telling them to wait, but my letters were difficult to understand.

“The mountaineers were surprised at the delay, and no doubt some of them said, ‘He has been bought by the Christians,’ but the wise men knew about my family. The messengers who took my letters were frightened, for they were ordered to read them aloud to the tribes. One came to me, limping and ragged, saying ‘Sidi, I took your paper to Suq el Habib, and when I called the people together in the market, they said, “It is the order to march,” and they were glad, and the Faqihs blessed them and everyone shouted, “Salli en Nebi er Rasul Allah,” and “God keep the Sherif!” Then I read the letter, and the noise died. They looked at each other and asked what it meant. Then one said, “The Sherif is very learned and we are but ignorant men,” and another, “The language is beautiful but the meaning is not in my head,” and others shouted, “It is not from the Sherif. The messenger lies. He has been bought by the Spaniards!” They flung themselves upon me, and I thought I was a dead man, but Allah saved me and the influence of my master. When they had finished beating me, I crept away and put oil on my wounds, and told one or two who would listen, “On my head, it is from the Sherif, and he but waits an opportunity, so be patient.”’ Then he showed me the cuts on his back, and they were deep; so I sent my intimates, who were known to be with me, among the tribes, and they explained matters to the Kaids.

“Still there were disturbances. The messengers who went to Beni Aros were beaten and put into prison, for the rifles of the tribesmen had been oiled for a long time! One day I received a letter without signature or date, ‘Allah keep the Sherif if he be with us, but our steel grows rusty and our fingers are stiffening from disuse!’ You have seen the Fondak of Ain Yerida? It is the key to Wadi Ras, which has ever been the gateway of Tetuan. A post of native police kept the key, but one sunset the hills above them were alive with men who cried, ‘The country is in arms, and this road but for Moslems.’ There was no fight—a few shots fired in the air, and the police, who had become too used to the safe end of a rifle, were driven out, closing the gate to the East. Thereafter no man went along that road, except with a paper from Raisuli. The tribesmen heard of this, and, once again, I had difficulty in restraining their bullets. Ayashi Zellal of the Beni Mesauer, the Bakalis of Jebel Habib, Haj el Arbi of Wadi Ras, some of the Kaids of Beni Aros were with me in my efforts. Each gathered the leaders of his flags and told them that the final ammunition had not yet arrived, and that the Sherif was waiting for a last consignment of rifles. At the same time, they sent their own servants to mix among the mountaineers, saying that Raisuli was rich and powerful, that he was the Sultan’s representative, and would supply rifles and grain to all who fought with him.

“Enthusiasm spread like a flame, and in the weekly market of Beni Yusuf there was no trade done. The Sheikhs of Sumata and Beni Aros moved among the people, answering their questions and reassuring them—‘You have waited for years. Can you not wait for a few days?’ ‘When shall we march, Sidi?’ ‘When Allah wills.’ ‘What shall be the first work for our bullets? Where shall we go.’ ‘Where Allah wills.’ So the country waited. Yet there were deeds that I could not stop. A Berber girl who worked in a Spanish farm was shot by her brother as she returned from her labour, and another, who was suspected of warning the Jews whom she served, died at the hands of her father and her body was buried hurriedly as if it had been a dog’s.”

It is probable that Raisuli followed his usual policy of playing off one party against another. The Spaniards were forced to realise his ascendancy over the Jebala, but they were allowed to believe that the Sherif would still treat with them on certain terms. “I will never fight Spain,” he said, “but I will fight—and conquer—Silvestre if he comes against me.” As a last resort, the Legation at Tangier arranged a meeting between Raisuli and the leader of the military party. Besides the two principals, there were present at this historic encounter the Marquis of Villasinda (the Spanish Minister), Colonel Barrera, and Zugasti, still Consul at Larache.

Raisuli’s description of the conference was as follows: “I had not thought to see my enemy again till one of us was approaching death before the rifle of the other, but when I found him waiting for me with his countrymen, I saluted him as if he had been my ally, for the guests of the same host share his friendship, and enmity dies on a threshold that is hospitable. Silvestre began at once to accuse me of breaking my word and I saw that this would be a repetition of our interview at Azeila, but, because of Zugasti, I answered quietly, ‘The tribesman who made such an accusation would die before the last word had fallen from his mouth, but you are safe under the same roof as my brother.’ ‘It is your influence which has raised the tribes against us,’ he accused me. ‘You are right; and it was _my_ influence which kept them quiet for so long,’ I returned. ‘The country is full of complaints concerning your barbarity.’ ‘When a man is idle he finds time to complain. War is the best medicine for tongues which are too garrulous.’ ‘If you plunge the country into war, there will be enough bloodshed to separate us for this generation,’ he said. ‘It is not my work,’ I answered. ‘You have sown the crop, though I told you the ground was unprepared. Now you will reap it.’

Zugasti interposed, asking if there was no way of making peace between us, but Silvestre cried out, ‘He is a bandit! What is the use of speaking to him? My patience was exhausted long ago.’ ‘That is why I am stronger than you,’ I answered, ‘for, while I have life, I shall have patience.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘It is a matter of temperament. I am not willing to wait for things to be done next year or after twenty years! There can never be agreement between us, unless you are honest.’ ‘It is true,’ I replied, ‘that there can never be peace between us, for you are the wind and I am the sea. You blow mightily and I am enraged. I am like the waves which fling themselves on the beach, crested with foam, and you are the tempest which drives them, but you cannot move them out of their boundaries. Yes, you are the wind and I am the sea. The wind passes, but the ocean remains.”

“I would have saluted them all and left, for words were of no further use, but the Minister interposed. ‘Where are you going?’ he asked. ‘To my house at Zinat.’ ‘Wait until tomorrow,’ he urged, ‘for the Prime Minister has sent you a present from Madrid, as a proof of the affection and friendship of his Government. It is a collection of carpets which have been specially woven for you. At least you will accept this?’ ‘Sidi,’ I replied, ‘this is not the moment for gifts, for a present received by me from you would be called by my people by another name.’ He insisted, ‘They are very fine carpets, designed to your taste.’ Then I said, ‘I congratulate you on your sense of justice.’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I will explain, if Allah has blinded your eyes—they say justice is blind! I had a house at Azeila, and you took it. I had a great store of guns and ammunition, and you took it. I had furniture, carpets and mattresses—you took them, leaving me not so much as a handkerchief. Now you offer me a roll of carpets. No, Sidi, let those go with the rest.’

“The Minister frowned when my speech was translated to him. ‘Nothing has been taken from you. All is waiting for you at Azeila,’ he said. ‘Inshallah, I shall never return to Azeila, for if the sea and the wind are in the same place, there is much turmoil.’ ‘Will you not go to visit your family?’ ‘My family is large. It is all over Morocco.’

“The Minister insisted that I would not speak frankly, and that I was becoming an enemy of his country, and I answered, ‘I am the enemy of no country, but I am, first of all, the friend of my own. As for honesty between us, is it honest that you keep my family as prisoners? I did not know your nation made war on the harem.’ This struck him, because he had always been against Silvestre’s policy, but the Colonel, seeing it, broke in ‘I will give you my son as a hostage,’ he said. ‘Then each of us will have a pledge for the faith of the other.’ I remembered how, in Europe, you care for your children, giving them to others to look after and educate, but I answered, ‘It is to your honour that you think of such a thing.’ He went on, ‘I have only one son, and he is the child of the woman I love most in the world, but I will give him to you to ensure your friendship.’ Then I said to him, ‘Allah bless you with strength. Do you know what the son of an Arab is to him? We have no love of women, so there is but one person on whom our hopes are fixed. Our sons are our surest defence and the hope of our race. A man who is sonless is ashamed before his people, for Islam is the poorer because of him. Yet I would leave you my son and, knowing him in your hands, I would still be your enemy!’ So the conference ended.

“Silvestre returned to Larache and I went to Zinat, where the Legation still tried to communicate with me. Mulai el Medhi was proclaimed as Kaliph, but there was no road by which he could travel to Tetuan. The heart of the country was closed, and the people said, ‘Who is this friend of France who has been imposed upon us?’ El Mehdi went by sea to Ceuta, and, from there, Alfau, who was the first High Commissioner, occupied Tetuan. The Beni Hosmar would have opposed his advance, but I restrained them, for it was my idea that this city should be the capital of the Protectorate. Before we disputed over other matters, I had talked to Silvestre about the project, but I would have had Spain go slowly, strengthening her supports as she advanced. The situation was strange. On the one side of me there was peace, and on the other, war, but both came from the same nation. Alfau wrote to me saying my help was necessary if Spain were to advance further, but he did not dare suggest what was in his mind. Tetuan had been occupied without the loss of a life, and, their pockets fattened by Spanish pesetas, a crowd welcomed the arrival of the Kaliph, but, when he wrote to the tribes, announcing his accession and demanding their allegiance, his letters were met, each one, with a bullet. None of his messengers returned, but, El Hamdulillah, cartridges have always been cheap.[54]

[Illustration: Mohammed el Khalid, Raisuli’s eldest son]

“Then the Government wrote to Silvestre and told him that the only way of strengthening the authority of El Mehdi was that I should go and visit him. No Spaniard was foolish enough to write to me on the subject. They sent one of their men to me, a mesqueen who, because he wore suspenders, thought he was a European. The spirit of the Arabs was dead in him, and he had acquired more of your sins than your virtues. He sat in front of me and smoked, so I sent a slave for a brazier and ordered him to wave it round the room. After this he placed it beside the visitor, who was not pleased at the fumes, for I had told them to make it strong. ‘I have difficulty in speaking,’ he said. ‘You permit—?’ and would have ordered a slave to remove the brazier, but I looked at his cigarette—‘I thought you had so cultivated your speech that you had lost the power of smelling . . . but I have all my senses, as Allah intended them.’

“Then he stopped smoking and made excuses, and told me why he had come. ‘If you will make peace with the Kaliph, the Spaniards will give you all that you ask,’ he said. I looked out of my house and was silent, for I marvelled that a man could be so stupid; but, after a long pause, when he had repeated his arguments many times, I said to him, ‘Look out into the fields, and tell me what are those birds circling in the air?’ He said, ‘I see a few kites, and one great bird that is perhaps an eagle. It is flying straight for the mountains.’ I answered, ‘Does the eagle make peace with the field-mouse, when the kite is preparing to pounce on it?’ and he was without words. When he would have left, I said to him, ‘How much have you lost by this failure? Tell my slave, and he will make it up to you, for you were once a man and of my people.’

“After this the Government forced Silvestre to send my family to Tangier, and they came with an escort in all comfort. This was in the spring, when the sun was just beginning to eat the grass, and the tribesmen who were against me were frightened, saying, ‘He has prevailed again over the Government! We are on the wrong side.’ They began burying all their possessions in caves, where they would be safe from my vengeance, and they wrote hurriedly to the Government, but some of their messengers fell into my hands and were killed.

“One of their letters was brought to me, and I found it full of prayers that I should not be allowed to leave Tangier. ‘Ullah, they think they are dealing with Moors,’ I said. ‘But the blades of Europe are slow. If my death is planned, I shall know it a week in advance,’ for they implored that the Government would have me imprisoned or murdered, as a proof of its strength. ‘Your nation is strong,’ they wrote, ‘but he is stronger, for you have been able to do nothing with him. We dare not sleep by night nor eat by day, for fear he will attack us when we are unprepared. Tell us why you have not been able to hold him or kill him. Now that he has received back all his family and his goods he will have a still greater authority over us, for the tribes will say that even the Government cannot prevail against him.’ Ullah, they were frightened, so, to add to their fears, my men disembowelled the bodies of the messengers, stuffed them with straw and took them by night to the lands of the village which hoped for my death. Then, putting the letter in the mouths of the dead men, they impaled them on sticks and left them to greet their relatives in the dawn. It was a warning.

“The village was rich in rifles, so, to dry their blood and stop the wailing of the women, they lay in wait for some of my men whom I had sent on a mission to Beni Aros. It was well planned, and, where the rocks were steepest, my soldiers were fired upon from a distance, and two of them killed, but the others, seeing that there was no enemy to shoot at, flung themselves down as if they had been hit, and lay still, waiting. The villagers, who had been so well hidden that no bullet could have found them, sprang up with the battle-cry of their people. So anxious were they to mutilate the bodies and bring back to their women the proof that would still their voices, that they ran heedlessly towards the slain. My soldiers waited until they could see the gleam of the knives prepared for them. Then the bodies sprang to life and fired, for the enemy was now visible and in their hands. The slaughter was great on both sides, but at last the villagers fled. It was not safe to leave the wounded who could not walk, for the women would have come and destroyed their manhood, so they were dragged down the hill and buried swiftly before the breath was out of their bodies, and, if one protested, he was told, ‘Bismillah, you will soon be in heaven. Trouble not!’

“When the summer was already in Tangier, I sent my family away and rode out openly to Zinat, for the way to the mountains was ready. From my properties near Al Kasr much grain and other foods had been sent up to Tazrut, and I had more rifles than men. The country was flooded with them, and arms were sold openly in the markets of Jebala. In the Zawia of Sidi Jusef el Teledi, after the Hezb had been said, the Imam addressed the people and told him that the war was holy, and Raisuli the chosen leader. Their lives were to be under his feet, and they were to carry him on their heads wherever he would go. A letter from the Sheikh of Beni Jusef was read to the assembly and, when they understood that it spoke of war, each man under his own flag, their ranks broke and they rushed forward to kiss the letter and hold it over their eyelids. Fragments were torn from the paper, and the tribesmen struggled each one for a morsel, believing that it would be an amulet and save him from danger. One man, afraid that he might lose a most precious particle on which it happened was written the Name (of Allah), cut open the flesh of his arm, buried the paper in the wound and sewed it up with leeches. These insects are better than stitches, for, when a row of these are placed across a cut, they bite hard, and no one can force open their mandibles. The bodies are severed and removed, but the pincers remain holding the skin closely together, and, by the time they fall to pieces, the wound is healed.

“About this time Silvestre wrote urging the appointment of a new Pasha, for, under the mandate of the Sultan, I was still Governor of Azeila. Alfau protested. There was no war in his zone, and he still dreamed of a peace won by scribes rather than by soldiers. Silvestre retorted that there must be someone to rule, and suggested dividing my province into three parts under Dris er Riffi at Azeila, Mohamed Fadal ben Zaich at Larache, and my enemy Ermiki at Al Kasr. Certainly his weapons were tarnished, and the rust must have stained his hands, for er Riffi had deserted me when he thought I was weak. Poison had failed him, but I knew he would try some other means to destroy me, for as long as I lived, he would wake suddenly and feel his head rocking between his shoulder-blades. Truly a coward dies a thousand deaths before Allah summons him.

“As for Ermiki, his history is well known. I told you of his attack on Al Kasr, but, long before that, he was known as a man who had no truth in him. Accused of robbing the treasury of the Pasha who then ruled the town, he was sent to Mulai Abdul Aziz, who did not know enough to distinguish between the false and the true. All that Sidi el Ermiki had robbed from the Governor he paid in bribes to the Ministers who surrounded the Sultan. Consequently, instead of being punished, he returned to Al Kasr as Pasha, and his ferocity was such that men paid him their last ‘real’ rather than suffer his tortures. Much of this money he sent to Mulai Abdul Aziz, who was delighted, thinking that at last he had found a source to swell his sinking revenues. He ordered Ermiki to go out at the head of a mehalla and collect the taxes from the rebellious Beni Ahmas. Leaving blazing villages as torches to light his troops, Ermiki went through the country of Ahl Serif, Beni Jusef and Sumata and, to this day, people date their lives as before or after ‘the burning’ which is the name they gave to his journey. Allah was with the Beni Ahmas and they were strong among their mountains, which are invincible, so Ermiki could do no more than fire at the cliffs, which returned his shots slowly, each bullet finding its mark.

“The Ahl Serif, with much blood to avenge, fell upon him from behind, and he was defeated. His army vanished among the crags, and only the kites told where it lay. In the dress of a mountaineer, and riding a mule which had no saddle but a sack, Sidi Buselhan[55] escaped to the plains, but by this time Mulai Hafid had taken his brother’s place upon the throne. The oath had been sworn between us, and the province was given to me as a Governorate, so Ermiki found himself dispossessed of everything at the same moment.

“It was this man whom Silvestre proclaimed as Pasha of Al Kasr, and there was no more hope of peace. I could have raised 10,000 men on the day the news was known. The Riffs came to join me from Gomara, 300 men with their rifles. The men of the plains by the Luccus sent word that they waited only to gather their harvest. My brother left Azeila for Zinat, and Zellal came also with his tribesmen. Flames signalled on the mountains by night, and smoke carried the news by day. The rifles were ready and everywhere they threatened the Christians.”