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diff --git a/old/23414-h.htm.2021-01-25 b/old/23414-h.htm.2021-01-25 new file mode 100644 index 0000000..99f485b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/23414-h.htm.2021-01-25 @@ -0,0 +1,1005 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Halima and the Scorpions, by Robert Hichens + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Halima And The Scorpions, by Robert Hichens + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Halima And The Scorpions + 1905 + +Author: Robert Hichens + +Release Date: November 8, 2007 [EBook #23414] +Last Updated: December 17, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HALIMA AND THE SCORPIONS *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + HALIMA AND THE SCORPIONS + </h1> + <h2> + By Robert Hichens + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + Frederick A. Stokes Company Publishers + </h3> + <h4> + Copyright, 1905 + </h4> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + In travelling about the world one collects a number of those trifles of + all sorts, usually named “curiosities,” many of them worthless if it were + not for the memories they recall. The other day I was clearing out a + bureau before going abroad, and in one of the drawers I came across a + hedgehog’s foot, set in silver, and hung upon a tarnished silver chain. I + picked it up in the Sahara, and here is its history. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Mohammed El Aïd Ben Ali Tidjani, marabout of Tamacine, is a great man in + the Sahara Desert. His reputation for piety reaches as far as Tunis and + Algiers, to the north of Africa, and to the uttermost parts of the + Southern Desert, even to the land of the Touaregs. He dwells in a sacred + village of dried mud and brick, surrounded by a high wall, pierced with + loopholes, and ornamented with gates made of palm wood, and covered with + sheets of iron. In his mansion, above the entrance of which is written + “L’Entrée de Sidi Laïd,” are clocks innumerable, musical boxes, tables, + chairs, sofas, and even framed photographs. Negro servants bow before him, + wives, brothers, children, and obsequious hangers-on of various + nationalities, black, bronze, and <i>café au lait</i> in colour, offer him + perpetual incense. Rich worshippers of the Prophet and the Prophet’s + priests send him presents from afar; camels laden with barley, donkeys + staggering beneath sacks of grain, ostrich plumes, silver ornaments, + perfumes, red-eyed doves, gazelles whose tiny hoofs are decorated with + gold-leaf or painted in bright colours. The tributes laid before the tomb + of Cheikh Sidi El Hadj Ali ben Sidi El Hadj Aïssa are, doubtless, his + perquisites as guardian of the saint. He dresses in silks of the tints of + the autumn leaf, and carries in his mighty hand a staff hung with + apple-green ribbons. And his smile is as the smile of the rising sun in an + oleograph. + </p> + <p> + This personage one day blessed the hedgehog’s foot I at present possess, + and endowed it solemnly with miraculous curative properties. It would + cure, he declared, all the physical ills that can beset a woman. Then he + gave it into the hands of a great Agha, who was about to take a wife, + accepted a tribute of dates, a grandfather’s clock from Paris, and a + grinding organ of Barbary as a small acknowledgment of his generosity, and + probably thought very little more about the matter. + </p> + <p> + Now, in the course of time, it happened that the hedgehog’s foot came into + the possession of a dancing-girl of Touggourt, called Halima. How Halima + got hold of it I cannot say, nor does anyone in Touggourt exactly know, so + far as I am aware. But, alas! even Aghas are sometimes human, and play + pitch and toss with magical things. As Grand Dukes who go to disport + themselves in Paris sometimes hie them incognito to the “Café de la + Sorcière,” so do Aghas flit occasionally to Touggourt, and appear upon the + high benches of the great dancing-house of the Ouled Nails in the + outskirts of the city. And Halima was young and beautiful. Her eyes were + large, and she wore a golden crown ornamented with very tall feathers. And + she danced the dance of the hands and the dance of the fainting fit with + great perfection. And the wives of Aghas have to put up with a good deal. + However it was, one evening Halima danced with the hedgehog’s foot that + had been blessed dangling from her jewelled girdle. And there was a great + scandal in the city. + </p> + <p> + For in the four quarters of Touggourt, the quarter of the Jews, of the + foreigners, of the freed negroes, and of the citizens proper, it was known + that the hedgehog’s foot had been blessed and endowed with magical powers + by the mighty marabout of Tamacine. + </p> + <p> + Halima herself affirmed it, standing at the front door of her terraced + dwelling in the court, while the other dancers gathered round, looking + like a troop of macaws in their feathers and their finery. With a brazen + pride she boasted that she possessed something worth more than uncut + rubies, carpets from Bagdad, and silken petticoats sewn with sequins. And + the Ouled Naïls could not gainsay her. Indeed, they turned their huge, + kohl-tinted eyes upon the relic with envy, and stretched their painted + hands towards it as if to a god in prayer. But Halima would let no one + touch it, and presently, taking from her bosom her immense door key, she + retired to enshrine the foot in her box, studded with huge brass nails, + such as stands by each dancer’s bed. + </p> + <p> + And the scandal was very great in the city that such a precious thing + should be between the hands of an Ouled Naïl, a girl of no repute, come + thither in a palanquin on camel-back to earn her dowry, and who would + depart into the sands of the south, laden with the gold wrung from the + pockets of loose livers. + </p> + <p> + Only Ben-Abid smiled gently when he heard of the matter. + </p> + <p> + Ben-Abid belonged to the <i>Tribu des blancs</i>, and was the singer + attached to the café of the smokers of the hashish. He it was who struck + each evening a guitar made of goatskin backed by sand tortoise, and lifted + up his voice in the song “Lalia”: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ladham Pacha who has left the heart of his enemies + trembling— + O Lalia! O Lalia! + The love of women is no more sweet to me after thy love. + + Thy hand is white, and thy bracelets are of the purest + silver— + And I, Ladham Pacha, love thee, without thought of + what will come. + O Lalia! O Lalia!” + </pre> + <p> + The assembled smokers breathed out under the black ceiling their deep + refrain of “Wur-ra-Wurra!” and Larbi, in his Zouave jacket and his tight, + pleated skirt, threw back his small head, exposing his long brown throat, + and danced like a tired phantom in a dream. + </p> + <p> + Ben-Abid smiled, showing two rows of lustrous teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Should Halima fall ill, the foot will not avail to cure her,” he + murmured. “Ben Ali Tidjani’s blessing could never rest on an Ouled Naïl, + who, like a little viper of the sand, has stolen into the Agha’s bosom, + and filled his veins with subtle poison. She deems she has a treasure; but + let her beware: that which would protect a woman who wears the veil will + do naught for a creature who shows her face to the stranger, and dances by + night for the Zouaves and for the Spahis who patrol the dunes.” + </p> + <p> + And he struck his long fingers upon the goatskin of his instrument, while + Kouïdah, the boy who played upon the little glasses and shook the + tambourine of reeds, slipped forth to tell in the city what Ben-Abid had + spoken. + </p> + <p> + Halima was enraged when she heard of it, more especially as there were + found many to believe Ben-Abid’s words. She stood before her room upon the + terrace, where Zouaves were playing cards with the dancers in the sun, and + she cursed him in a shrill voice, calling him son of a scorpion, and + requesting that Allah would send great troubles upon his relations, even + upon his aged grandmother. That the miraculous reputation of her treasure + should be thus scouted, and herself insulted, vexed her to the soul. + </p> + <p> + “Let the son of a camel with a swollen tongue dare to come to me and + repeat what he has said!” she cried. “Let him come out from his lair in + the café of the hashish smokers, and, as Allah is great, I will spit in + his face. The reviler of women! The son of a scorpion! Cursed be his———” + </p> + <p> + And then once more she desired evil to the grandmother of Ben-Abid, and to + all his family. And the Zouaves and the dancers laughed over their card + games. Indeed, the other dancers were merry, and not ill-pleased with + Ben-Abid’s words. For even in the Sahara the women do not care that one of + them should be exalted above the rest. + </p> + <p> + Now, in Touggourt gossip is carried from house to house, as the sand + grains are carried on the wind. Within an hour Ben-Abid heard that his + grandmother had been cursed, and himself called son of a scorpion, by + Halima. Kouïdah, the boy, ran on naked feet to tell him in the café of the + hashish smokers. When he heard he smiled. + </p> + <p> + “To-night I will go to the dancing-house, and speak with Halima,” he + murmured. And then he plucked the guitar of goatskin that was ever in his + hands, and sang softly of the joys of Ladham Pacha, half closing his eyes, + and swaying his head from side to side. + </p> + <p> + And Kouïdah, the boy, ran back across the camel market to tell in the + court of the dancers the words of Ben-Abid. + </p> + <p> + That night, when the nomads lit their brushwood fires in the market; when + the Kabyle bakers, in their striped turbans and their close-fitting + jerseys of yellow and of red, ran to and fro bearing the trays of flat, + new-made loaves; when the dwarfs beat on the ground with their staffs to + summon the mob to watch their antics; and the story-tellers put on their + glasses, and sat them down at their boards between the candles; Ben-Abid + went forth secretly from the hashish café wrapped in his burnous. He + sought out in the quarter of the freed negroes a certain man called Sadok, + who dwelt alone. + </p> + <p> + This Sadok was lean as a spectre, and had a skin like parchment. He was a + renowned plunger in desert wells, and could remain beneath the water, men + said, for a space of four minutes. But he could also do another thing. He + could eat scorpions. And this he would do for a small sum of money. Only, + during the fast of Ramadan, between the rising and the going down of the + sun, so long as a white thread could be distinguished from a black, he + would not eat even a scorpion, because the tasting of food by day in that + time is forbidden by the Prophet. + </p> + <p> + When Ben-Abid struck on his door Sadok came forth, gibbering in his + tangled beard, and half naked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, brother!” said Ben-Abid. “Here is money if thou canst find me three + scorpions. One of them must be a black scorpion.” + </p> + <p> + Sadok shot out his filthy claw, and there was fire in his eyes. But + Ben-Abid’s fingers closed round the money paper. + </p> + <p> + “First thou must find the scorpions, and then thou must carry them with + thee to the court of the dancers, walking at my side. For, as Allah lives, + I will not touch them. Afterwards thou shalt have the money.” + </p> + <p> + Sadok’s soul drew the shutters across his eyes. Then he led the way by + tortuous alleys to an old and ruined wall of a <i>zgag</i>, in which there + were as many holes as there are in a honeycomb. Here, as he knew, the + scorpions loved to sleep. Thrusting his fingers here and there he + presently drew forth three writhing reptiles. And one of them was black. + He held them out, with a cry, to Ben-Abid. + </p> + <p> + “The money! The money!” he shrieked. + </p> + <p> + But Ben-Abid shrank back, shuddering. + </p> + <p> + “Thou must bring them to the dancers’ court. Hide them well in thy + garments that none may see them. Then thou shalt have the money.” + </p> + <p> + Sadok hid the scorpions upon his shaven head beneath his turban, and they + went by the dunes and the lonely ways to the café of the dancers. + </p> + <p> + Already the pipers were playing, and many were assembled to see the women + dance; but Ben-Abid and Sadok pushed through the throng, and passed across + the café to the inner court, which is open to the air, and surrounded with + earthen terraces on which, in tiers, open the rooms of the dancers, each + with its own front door. This court is as a mighty rabbit warren, peopled + with women instead of rabbits. Pale lights gleamed in many doorways, for + the dancers were dressing and painting themselves for the dances of the + body, of the hands, of the poignard, and of the handkerchief. Their shrill + voices cried one to another, their heavy bracelets and necklets jingled, + and the monstrous shadows of their crowned and feathered heads leaped and + wavered on the yellow patches of light that lay before their doors. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Halima?” cried Ben-Abid in a loud voice. “Let Halima come forth + and spit in my face!” + </p> + <p> + At the sound of his call many women ran to their doors, some half dressed, + some fully attired, like Jezebels of the great desert. + </p> + <p> + “It is Ben-Abid!” went up the cry of many voices. “It is Ben-Abid, who + laughs to scorn the power of the hedgehog’s foot. It is the son of the + camel with the swollen tongue. Halima, Halima, the child of the scorpion + calls thee!” + </p> + <p> + Kouïdah, the boy, who was ever about, ran barefoot from the court into the + café to tell of the doings of Ben-Abid, and in a moment the people crowded + in, Zouaves and Spahis, Arabs and negroes, nomads from the south, gipsies, + jugglers, and Jews. There were, too, some from Tamacine, and these were of + all the most intent. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Halima?” went up the cry. “Where is Halima?” + </p> + <p> + “Who calls me?” exclaimed the voice of a girl. + </p> + <p> + And Halima came out of her door on the first terrace at the left, + splendidly dressed for the dance in scarlet and gold, carrying two scarlet + handkerchiefs in her hands, and with the hedgehog’s foot dangling from her + girdle of thin gold, studded with turquoises. + </p> + <p> + Ben-Abid stood below in the court with Sadok by his side. The crowd + pressed about him from behind. + </p> + <p> + “Thou hast called me the son of a scorpion, Halima,” he said, in a loud + voice. “Is it not true?” + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” she answered, with a venomous smile of hatred. “And thou + hast said that the hedgehog’s foot, blessed by the great marabout of + Tamacine, would avail naught against the deadly sickness of a + dancing-girl. Is it not true?” + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” answered Ben-Abid. + </p> + <p> + “Thou art a liar!” cried Halima. + </p> + <p> + “And so art thou!” said Ben-Abid slowly. + </p> + <p> + A deep murmur rose from the crowd, which pressed more closely beneath the + terrace, staring up at the scarlet figure upon it. + </p> + <p> + “If I am a liar thou canst not prove it!” cried Halima furiously. “I spit + upon thee! I spit upon thee!” + </p> + <p> + And she bent down her feathered head from the terrace and spat + passionately in his face. + </p> + <p> + Ben-Abid only laughed aloud. + </p> + <p> + “I can prove that I have spoken the truth,” he said. “But if I am indeed + the son of a scorpion, as thou sayest, let my brothers speak for me. Let + my brothers declare to all the Sahara that the truth is in my mouth. + Sadok, remove thy turban!” + </p> + <p> + The plunger of the wells, with a frantic gesture, lifted his turban and + discovered the three scorpions writhing upon his shaven head. Another, and + longer, murmur went up from the crowd. But some shrank back and trembled, + for the desert Arabs are much afraid of scorpions, which cause many deaths + in the Sahara. + </p> + <p> + “What is this?” cried Halima. “How can the scorpions speak for thee?” + </p> + <p> + “They shall speak well,” said Ben-Abid. “Their voices cannot lie. Sleep + to-night in thy room with these my brothers. Irena and Boria, the Golden + Date and the Lotus Flower, shall watch beside thee. Guard in thy hand, or + in thy breast, the hedgehog’s foot that thou sayest can preserve from + every ill. If, in the evening of to-morrow, thou dancest before the + soldiers, I will give thee fifty golden coins. But, if thou dancest not, + the city shall know whether Ben-Abid is a truth-teller, and whether the + blessings of the great marabout can rest upon such a woman as thou art. If + thou refusest thou art afraid, and thy fear proveth that thou hast no + faith in the magic treasure that dangles at thy girdle.” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment of deep silence. Then, from the crowd burst forth the + cry of many voices: + </p> + <p> + “Put it to the proof! Ben-Abid speaks well. Put it to the proof, and may + Allah judge between them.” + </p> + <p> + Beneath the caked pigments on her face Halima had gone pale. + </p> + <p> + “I will not,” she began. + </p> + <p> + But the cries rose up again, and with them the shrill, twittering laughter + of her envious rivals. + </p> + <p> + “She has no faith in the marabout!” squawked one, who had a nose like an + eagle’s beak. + </p> + <p> + “She is a liar!” piped another, shaking out her silken petticoats as a + bird shakes out its plumes. + </p> + <p> + And then the twitter of fierce laughter rose, shriek on shriek, and was + echoed more deeply by the crowd of watching men. + </p> + <p> + “Give me the scorpions!” cried Halima passionately. “I am not afraid!” + </p> + <p> + Her desert blood was up. Her fatalism—even in the women of the + Sahara it lurks—was awake. In that moment she was ready to die, to + silence the bitter laughter of her rivals. It sank away as Sadok grasped + the scorpions in his filthy claw, and leaped, gibbering in his beard, upon + the terrace. + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” cried Halima, as he came upon her, holding forth his handful of + writhing poison. + </p> + <p> + Her bosom heaved. Her lustrous eyes, heavy with kohl, shone like those of + a beast at bay. + </p> + <p> + Sadok stood still, with his naked arm outstretched. + </p> + <p> + “How shall I know that the son of a scorpion will pay me the fifty golden + coins? He is poor, though he speaks bravely. He is but a singer in the + café of the smokers of the hashish, and cannot buy even a new garment for + the close of the feast of Ramadan. How, then, shall I know that the gold + will hang from my breasts when to-morrow, at the falling of the sun, I + dance before the men of Toug—” + </p> + <p> + Ben-Abid put his hand beneath his burnous, and brought forth a bag tied at + the mouth with cord. + </p> + <p> + “They are here!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “The Jews! He has been to the Jews!” cried the desert men. + </p> + <p> + “Bring a lamp!” said Ben-Abid. + </p> + <p> + And while Irena and Boria, the Golden Date and the Lotus Flower, held the + lights, and the desert men crowded about him with the eyes of wolves that + are near to starving, he counted forth the money on the terrace at + Halima’s feet. And she gazed down at the glittering pieces as one that + gazes upon a black fate. + </p> + <p> + “And now set my brothers upon the maiden,” Ben-Abid said to Sadok, + gathering up the money, and casting it again into the bag, which he tied + once more with the cord. + </p> + <p> + Halima did not move, but she looked upon the scorpion that was black, and + her red lips trembled. Then she closed her hand upon the hedgehog’s foot + that hung from her golden girdle, and shut her eyes beneath her ebon + eyebrows. + </p> + <p> + “Set my brothers upon her!” said Ben-Abid. + </p> + <p> + The plunger of the wells sprang upon Halima, opened her scarlet bodice + roughly, plunged his claw into her swelling bosom, and withdrew it—empty. + </p> + <p> + “Kiss her close, my brothers!” whispered Ben-Abid. + </p> + <p> + A long murmur, like the growl of the tide upon a shingly beach, arose once + more from the crowd. Halima turned about, and went slowly in at her + lighted doorway, followed by Irena and Boria. The heavy door of palm was + shut behind them. The light was hidden. There was a great silence. It was + broken by Sadok’s voice screaming in his beard to Ben-Abid, “My money! + Give me my money!” + </p> + <p> + He snatched it with a howl, and went capering forth into the darkness. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + When the next night fell upon the desert there was a great crowd assembled + in the café of the dancers. The pipers blew into their pipes, and swayed + upon their haunches, turning their glittering eyes to and fro to see what + man had a mind to press a piece of money upon their well greased + foreheads. The dancers came and went, promenading arm in arm upon the + earthen floor, or leaping with hands outstretched and fingers fluttering. + The Kabyle attendant slipped here and there with the coffee cups, and the + wreaths of smoke curled lightly upward towards the wooden roof. + </p> + <p> + But Halima came not through the open doorway holding the scarlet + handkerchiefs above her head. + </p> + <p> + And presently, late in the night, they laid her body in a palanquin, and + set the palanquin upon a running camel, and, while the dancers shrilled + their lament amid the sands, they bore her away into the darkness of the + dunes towards the south and the tents of her own people. + </p> + <p> + The jackals laughed as she went by. + </p> + <p> + But the hedgehog’s foot was left lying upon the floor of her chamber. Not + one of the dancers would touch it. + </p> + <p> + That night I was in the café, and, hearing of all these things from + Kouïdah, the boy, I went into the court, and gathered up the trinket which + had brought a woman to the great silence. Next day I rode on horseback to + Tamacine, asked to see the marabout and told him all the story. + </p> + <p> + He listened, smiling like the rising sun in an oleograph, and twisting in + his huge hands, that were tinted with the henna, the staff with the + apple-green ribbons. + </p> + <p> + When I came to the end I said: + </p> + <p> + “O, holy marabout, tell me one thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Allah is just. I listen.” + </p> + <p> + “If the scorpions had slept with a veiled woman who held the hedgehog’s + foot, how would it have been? Would the woman have died or lived?” + </p> + <p> + The marabout did not answer. He looked at me calmly, as at a child who + asks questions about the mysteries of life which only the old can + understand. + </p> + <p> + “These things,” he said at length, “are hidden from the unbeliever. You + are a Roumi. How, then, should you learn such matters?” + </p> + <p> + “But even the Roumi——” + </p> + <p> + “In the desert there are mysteries,” continued the marabout, “which even + the faithful must not seek to penetrate.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it is useless to——” + </p> + <p> + “It is very useless. It is as useless as to try to count the grains of the + sand.” + </p> + <p> + I said no more. + </p> + <p> + Mohammed El Aïd Ben Ali Tidjani smiled once more, and beckoned to a negro + attendant, who ran with a musical box, one of the gifts of the faithful. + </p> + <p> + “This comes from Paris,” he said, with a spreading complacence. + </p> + <p> + Then there was within the box a sounding click, and there stole forth a + tinkling of Auber’s music to <i>Masaniello</i>, “Come o’er the moonlit + sea!” + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s Halima And The Scorpions, by Robert Hichens + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HALIMA AND THE SCORPIONS *** + +***** This file should be named 23414-h.htm or 23414-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/4/1/23414/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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