The Seven Little Sisters Who Live on the Round Ball That Floats in the Air Part 2

It is the sun, the beautiful, bright, round sun, which s.h.i.+nes and smiles at them for a minute, and then slips away again below the far, frozen water.

They haven't seen him for many months, and now they rejoice, for the next day he comes again and stays longer, and the next, and the next, and every day longer and longer, until at last he moves above them in one great, bright circle, and does not even go away at all at night.

His warm rays melt the snow and awaken the few little hardy flowers that can grow in this short summer. The icy coat breaks away from the clear running water, and great flocks of birds with soft white plumage come, like a snowstorm of great feathery flakes, and settle among the black rocks along the seash.o.r.e. Here they lay their eggs in the many safe little corners and shelves of the rock; and here they circle about in the suns.h.i.+ne, while the Esquimau boys make ready their long-handled nets and creep and climb out upon the ledges of rock, and, holding up the net as the birds fly by, catch a netful to carry home for supper.

The sun s.h.i.+nes all day long, and all night long, too; and yet he can't melt all the highest snowdrifts, where the boys are playing bat-and-ball,--long bones for sticks, and an odd little round one for a ball.

It is a merry life they all live while the suns.h.i.+ne stays, for they know the long, dark winter is coming, when they can no longer climb among the birds, nor play ball among the drifts.

The seals swim by in the clear water, and the walrus and her young one are at play; and, best of all, the good reindeer has come, for the sun has uncovered the crisp moss upon which he feeds, and he is roaming through the valleys where it grows among the rocks.

The old men sit on the rocks in the suns.h.i.+ne, and laugh and sing, and tell long stories of the whale and the seal, and the great white whale that, many years ago, when Agoonack's father was a child, came swimming down from the far north, where they look for the northern lights, swimming and diving through the broken ice; and they watched her in wonder, and no one would throw a harpoon at this white lady of the Greenland seas, for her visit was a good omen, promising a mild winter.

Little Agoonack comes from her play to crouch among the rocky ledges and listen to the stories. She has no books; and, if she had, she couldn't read them. Neither could her father or mother read to her: their stories are told and sung, but never written. But she is a cheerful and contented little girl, and tries to help her dear friends; and sometimes she wonders a great while by herself about what the pale stranger told them.

And now, day by day, the sun is slipping away from them; gone for a few minutes to-day, to-morrow it will stay away a few more, until at last there are many hours of rosy twilight, and few, very few, of clear suns.h.i.+ne.

But the children are happy: they do not dread the winter, but they hope the tired travellers have reached their homes; and Agoonack wants, oh, so much! to see them and help them once more. The father will hunt again, and the mother will tend the lamp and keep the house warm; and, although they will have no sun, the moon and stars are bright, and they will see again the streamers of the great northern light.

Would you like to live in the cold countries, with their long darkness and long suns.h.i.+ne?

It is very cold, to be sure, but there are happy children there, and kind fathers and mothers, and the merriest sliding on the very best of ice and snow.

GEMILA, THE CHILD OF THE DESERT.

It is almost sunset; and Abdel Ha.s.san has come out to the door of his tent to enjoy the breeze, which is growing cooler after the day's terrible heat. The round, red sun hangs low over the sand; it will be gone in five minutes more. The tent-door is turned away from the sun, and Abdel Ha.s.san sees only the rosy glow of its light on the hills in the distance which looked so purple all day. He sits very still, and his earnest eyes are fixed on those distant hills. He does not move or speak when the tent-door is again pushed aside, and his two children, Alee and Gemila, come out with their little mats and seat themselves also on the sand. You can see little Gemila in the picture. How glad they are of the long, cool shadows, and the tall, feathery palms! how pleasant to hear the camels drink, and to drink themselves at the deep well, when they have carried some fresh water in a cup to their silent father! He only sends up blue circles of smoke from his long pipe as he sits there, cross-legged, on a mat of rich carpet. He never sat in a chair, and, indeed, never saw one in his life. His chairs are mats; and his house is, as you have heard, a tent.

Do you know what a tent is?

I always liked tents, and thought I should enjoy living in one; and when I was a little girl, on many a stormy day when we couldn't go to school, I played with my sisters at living in tents. We would take a small clothes-horse and tip it down upon its sides, half open; then, covering it with shawls, we crept in, and were happy enough for the rest of the afternoon. I tell you this, that you may also play tents some day, if you haven't already.

The tent of Gemila's father is, however, quite different from ours.

Two or three long poles hold it up, and over them hangs a cloth made of goats'-hair, or sometimes sheepskins, which are thick enough to keep out either heat or cold. The ends of the cloth are fastened down by pegs driven into the sand, or the strong wind coming might blow the tent away. The tent-cloth pushes back like a curtain for the door.

Inside, a white cloth stretched across divides this strange house into two rooms; one is for the men, the other for the women and children.

In the tent there is no furniture like ours; nothing but mats, and low cus.h.i.+ons called divans; not even a table from which to eat, nor a bed to sleep upon. But the mats and the shawls are very gorgeous and costly, and we are very proud when we can buy any like them for our parlors. And, by the way, I must tell you that these people have been asleep all through the heat of the day,--the time when you would have been coming home from school, eating your dinner, and going back to school again. They closed the tent-door to keep out the terrible blaze of the sun, stretched themselves on the mats, and slept until just now, when the night-wind began to come.

Now they can sit outside the tent and enjoy the evening, and the mother brings out dates and little hard cakes of bread, with plenty of b.u.t.ter made from goats' milk. The tall, dark servant-woman, with loose blue cotton dress and bare feet, milks a camel, and they all take their supper, or dinner perhaps I had better call it. They have no plates, nor do they sit together to eat. The father eats by himself: when he has finished, the mother and children take the dates and bread which he leaves. We could teach them better manners, we think; but they could teach us to be hospitable and courteous, and more polite to strangers than we are.

When all is finished, you see there are no dishes to be washed and put away.

The stars have come out, and from the great arch of the sky they look down on the broad sands, the lonely rocks, the palm-trees, and the tents. Oh, they are so bright, so steady, and so silent, in that great, lonely place, where no noise is heard! no sounds of people or of birds or animals, excepting the sleepy groaning of a camel, or the low song that little Alee is singing to his sister as they lie upon their backs on the sand, and watch the slow, grand movement of the stars that are always journeying towards the west.

Night is very beautiful in the desert; for this is the desert, where Abdel Ha.s.san the Arab lives. His country is that part of our round ball where the yellow sands stretch farther than eye can see, and there are no wide rivers, no thick forests, and no snow-covered hills.

The day is too bright and too hot, but the night he loves; it is his friend.

He falls asleep at last out under the stars, and, since he has been sleeping so long in the daytime, can well afford to be awake very early in the morning: so, while the stars still s.h.i.+ne, and there is only one little yellow line of light in the east, he calls his wife, children, and servants, and in a few minutes all is bustle and preparation; for to-day they must take down the tent, and move, with all the camels and goats, many miles away. For the summer heat has nearly dried up the water of their little spring under the palm-trees, and the gra.s.s that grew there is also entirely gone; and one cannot live without water to drink, particularly in the desert, nor can the goats and camels live without gra.s.s.

Now, it would be a very bad thing for us, if some day all the water in our wells and springs and ponds should dry up, and all the gra.s.s on our pleasant pastures and hills should wither away.

What should we do? Should we have to pack all our clothes, our books, our furniture and food, and move away to some other place where there were both water and gra.s.s, and then build new houses? Oh, how much trouble it would give us! No doubt the children would think it great fun; but as they grew older they would have no pleasant home to remember, with all that makes "sweet home" so dear.

And now you will see how much better it is for Gemila's father than if he lived in a house. In a very few minutes the tent is taken down, the tent-poles are tied together, the covering is rolled up with the pegs and strings which fastened it, and it is all ready to put up again whenever they choose to stop. As there is no furniture to carry, the mats and cus.h.i.+ons only are to be rolled together and tied; and now Achmet, the old servant, brings a tall yellow camel.

Did you ever see a camel? I hope you have some time seen a living one in a menagerie; but, if you haven't, perhaps you have seen a picture of the awkward-looking animal with a great hump upon his back, a long neck, and head thrust forward. A boy told me the other day, that, when the camel had been long without food, he ate his hump: he meant that the flesh and fat of the hump helped to nourish him when he had no food.

Achmet speaks to the camel, and he immediately kneels upon the sand, while the man loads him with the tent-poles and covering; after which he gets up, moves on a little way, to make room for another to come up, kneel, and be loaded with mats, cus.h.i.+ons, and bags of dates.

Then comes a third; and while he kneels, another servant comes from the spring, bringing a great bag made of camels'-skin, and filled with water. Two of these bags are hung upon the camel, one on each side.

This is the water for all these people to drink for four days, while they travel through a sandy, rocky country, where there are no springs or wells. I am afraid the water will not taste very fresh after it has been kept so long in leather bags; but they have nothing else to carry it in, and, besides, they are used to it, and don't mind the taste.

Here are smaller bags, made of goats'-skin, and filled with milk; and when all these things are arranged, which is soon done, they are ready to start, although it is still long before sunrise. The camels have been drinking at the spring, and have left only a little muddy water, like that in our street-gutters; but the goats must have this, or none at all.

And now Abdel Ha.s.san springs upon his beautiful black horse, that has such slender legs and swift feet, and places himself at the head of this long troop of men and women, camels and goats. The women are riding upon the camels, and so are the children; while the servants and camel-drivers walk barefooted over the yellow sand.

It would seem very strange to you to be perched up so high on a camel's back, but Gemila is quite accustomed to it. When she was very little, her mother often hung a basket beside her on the camel, and carried her baby in it; but now she is a great girl, full six years old, and when the camel kneels, and her mother takes her place, the child can spring on in front, with one hand upon the camel's rough hump, and ride safely and pleasantly hour after hour. Good, patient camels! G.o.d has fitted them exactly to be of the utmost help to the people in that desert country. Gemila for this often blesses and thanks Him whom she calls Allah.

All this morning they ride,--first in the bright starlight; but soon the stars become faint and dim in the stronger rosy light that is spreading over the whole sky, and suddenly the little girl sees stretching far before her the long shadow of the camels, and she knows that the sun is up, for we never see shadows when the sun is not up, unless it is by candlelight or moonlight. The shadows stretch out very far before them, for the sun is behind. When you are out walking very early in the morning, with the sun behind you, see how the shadow of even such a little girl as you will reach across the whole street; and you can imagine that such great creatures as camels would make even much longer shadows.

Gemila watches them, and sees, too, how the white patches of sand flush in the morning light; and she looks back where far behind are the tops of their palm-trees, like great tufted fans, standing dark against the yellow sky.

She is not sorry to leave that old home. She has had many homes already, young as she is, and will have many more as long as she lives. The whole desert is her home; it is very wide and large, and sometimes she lives in one part, sometimes in another.

As the sun gets higher, it begins to grow very hot. The father arranges the folds of his great white turban, a shawl with many folds, twisted round his head to keep off the oppressive heat. The servants put on their white fringed handkerchiefs, falling over the head and down upon the neck, and held in place by a little cord tied, round the head. It is not like a bonnet or hat, but one of the very best things to protect the desert travellers from the sun. The children, too, cover their heads in the same way, and Gemila no longer looks out to see what is pa.s.sing: the sun is too bright; it would hurt her eyes and make her head ache. She shuts her eyes and falls half asleep, sitting there high upon the camel's back. But, if she could look out, there would be nothing to see but what she has seen many and many times before,--great plains of sand or pebbles, and sometimes high, bare rocks,--not a tree to be seen, and far off against the sky, the low purple hills. They move on in the heat, and are all silent. It is almost noon now, and Abdel Ha.s.san stops, leaps from his horse, and strikes his spear into the ground. The camel-drivers stop, the camels stop and kneel, Gemila and Alee and their mother dismount. The servants build up again the tent which they took down in the morning; and, after drinking water from the leathern bags, the family are soon under its shelter, asleep on their mats, while the camels and servants have crept into the shadow of some rocks and lain down in the sand.

The beautiful black horse is in the tent with his master; he is treated like a child, petted and fed by all the family, caressed and kissed by the children. Here they rest until the heat of the day is past; but before sunset they have eaten their dates and bread, loaded again the camels, and are moving, with the beautiful black horse and his rider at the head.

They ride until the stars are out, and after, but stop for a few hours' rest in the night, to begin the next day as they began this.

Gemila still rides upon the camel, and I can easily understand that she prays to Allah with a full heart under the s.h.i.+ning stars so clear and far, and that at the call to prayer in the early dawn her pretty little veiled head is bent in true love and wors.h.i.+p. But I must tell you what she sees soon after sunrise on this second morning. Across the sand, a long way before them, something with very long legs is running, almost flying. She knows well what it is, for she has often seen them before, and she calls to one of the servants, "See, there is the ostrich!" and she claps her hands with delight.

The ostrich is a great bird, with very long legs and small wings; and as legs are to run with, and wings to fly with, of course he can run better than he can fly. But he spreads his short wings while running, and they are like little sails, and help him along quite wonderfully, so that he runs much faster than any horse can.

Although he runs so swiftly, he is sometimes caught in a very odd way.

I will tell you how.

He is a large bird, but he is a very silly one, and, when he is tired of running, he will hide his head in the sand, thinking that because he can see no one he can't be seen himself. Then the swift-footed Arab horses can overtake him, and the men can get his beautiful feathers, which you must have often seen, for ladies wear them in their bonnets.

All this about the ostrich. Don't forget it, my little girl: some time you may see one, and will be glad that you know what kind of a fellow he is.

The ostrich which Gemila sees is too far away to be caught; besides, it will not be best to turn aside from the track which is leading them to a new spring. But one of the men trots forward on his camel, looking to this side and to that as he rides; and at last our little girl, who is watching, sees his camel kneel, and sees him jump off and stoop in the sand. When they reach the place, they find a sort of great nest, hollowed a little in the sand, and in it are great eggs, almost as big as your head. The mother ostrich has left them there.

She is not like other mother-birds, that sit upon the eggs to keep them warm; but she leaves them in the hot sand, and the sun keeps them warm, and by and by the little ostriches will begin to chip the sh.e.l.l, and creep out into the great world.

The ostrich eggs are good to eat. You eat your one egg for breakfast, but one of these big eggs will make breakfast for the whole family.

And that is why Gemila clapped her hands when she saw the ostrich: she thought the men would find the nest, and have fresh eggs for a day or two.

This day pa.s.ses like the last: they meet no one, not a single man or woman, and they move steadily on towards the sunset. In the morning again they are up and away under the starlight; and this day is a happy one for the children, and, indeed, for all.

The morning star is yet s.h.i.+ning, low, large, and bright, when our watchful little girl's dark eyes can see a row of black dots on the sand,--so small you might think them nothing but flies; but Gemila knows better. They only look small because they are far away; they are really men and camels, and horses too, as she will soon see when they come nearer. A whole troop of them; as many as a hundred camels, loaded with great packages of cloths and shawls for turbans, carpets and rich spices, and the beautiful red and green morocco, of which, when I was a little girl, we sometimes had shoes made, but we see it oftener now on the covers of books.