The Woods of Arcady by Michael Moorcock

Author:Michael Moorcock [Moorcock, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

19

The Sanctuary of the White Sufis

IN SPITE OF our tiredness, most of us ran with considerable energy down the hardened sand of the track towards the distant oasis! Only Sheik Antara and myself walked rather slowly, he with great dignity and me with a certain weariness. I noticed that wide tracks now began to lead into the oasis from a number of directions. This was evidently a meeting place of all manner of trade roads. I knew of such oases but had not expected ever to be so impressed.

The distinguished Bedouin appeared to be relishing the scene before us! His handsome features became more animated. I had expected to find a conventional oasis, a largish pond surrounded by palm trees with a few tents and some camels tethered nearby. This oasis, however, was worthy of the name ‘great’. There was not one pond but a number. Wide, mostly oblong, tanks fed by a series of pools protected by banks of low adobe and stone walls. Palms or shrubs surrounded them. People came and went between them. The tanks were of different depths and functions. Some were for watering animals, some for washing clothes and some for bathing. According to use and the sex of the user, the bathing tanks were walled, fenced or even roofed. All were fed by a series of small freshwater pools which disappeared from view behind relatively high, grassy rocks. There was evidently a large permanent population to service the caravans which came and went in the so-called ‘secret’ spice roads. Much evidence of human hands at work over many years. We saw an animal market, where goats, sheep, camels, donkeys and horses were energetically traded. They were not the menagerie we had shadowed.

The long tents were of a variety of tribal colours from black to white and with bright scarlets, greens and browns predominating. In some places the palms grew thick with large clusters of dates. Fig trees. Olive trees. Cultivated fields and grassy areas. A fair-sized town climbed the sandy rocks away to the south-west. Everywhere were tethered or gathered in small pastures collections of livestock tended by men, women and children in different forms of traditional dress. Scents ranged from expensive saffron to mint. Dogs ran everywhere. The animals were resting. A few ate the various kinds of fodder. Some scented us, setting up a steady chorus of barks, bleats and moans. With the braying of the donkeys and the whinnying of the horses and the barnyard smell, the place could be a country town on market day.

I saw that our musketeers had already reached the outer tanks and were deep in conversation with a number of men dressed in the white, flowing robes of desert Arabs. Porthos seemed to be remonstrating with them and Duval had come between the big Frenchman and the agitated tribesmen.

By the time we caught up with them, we saw that the pools stretched for some distance to a cluster of two-or three-storey buildings of cool, elegant Islamic appearance, defended by a wall.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.