File:The gateway to the Sahara; observations and experiences in Tripoli (1909) (14782531514).jpg

Identifier: gatewaytosaharao00furl (find matches)
Title: The gateway to the Sahara; observations and experiences in Tripoli
Year: 1909 (1900s)
Authors: Furlong, Charles Wellington, 1874-
Subjects: Tripoli (Libya) -- Description and travel
Publisher: New York : C. Scribner's sons
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
e, from withoutthe deep, mysterious valleys crept the blue-violetmist films of twilight shadows, absorbing andleavening into their darker tones the brighterafterglow, against which moved the dark shapesof horses and men. Suddenly they bunchedthemselves and the guard dismounted, thenMohammed and Ali went on with the packdonkey. The guards saddle-girth is broken, Mu-raiche informed me. But we will fix it and youcan ride on very slowly. I will wait, was my reply. But you ride on,Muraiche. The girth was soon fixed, whichconsisted in a vain effort to cinch it up anotherhole. Steeper and more rugged grew the trail, andwe entered the range of the Gharian. As day-light dimmed, an uncomfortable darkness hungover the mountains for a short space; then themoon glow appeared in the east, and soon themoon itself lifted its pale, distorted shape abovethe horizon, and suffused everything with itspale blue-green light, so cool and so satisfying tothe eye and mind in contrast to the hot sun glare (248)
Text Appearing After Image:
A NIGHTS RIDE WITH ARAB BANDITS that, during the day, reflected through to thevery brain. But the dark shadow masses of boulders,parched shrub patches, and shaded slopes—whatuncanny things might they not contain ? Andthose gorges, too, which in the day reflected heatlike an oven from their red, hot sides ? Now theywere cold, dank, and foreboding, and a shudderpassed over me. Then I reasoned with myself.I was tired, unduly apprehensive; the conditionsof heat and long days in the saddle had over-taxed my nerves. I fell to watching the agilebodies of my Arabs on foot, as, tiring of thepace, they dropped back until just in front ofme. Mohammed in particular; how the lightsand shadows played over his powerful, animal-like form; how subtly his shoulder and calf mus-cles moved under his sleek, dark skin; how theyfascinated me! Willingly through the long jour-ney they had served me, save at Khoms. Istarted, my dreaming suddenly ended, and almostinvoluntarily my spurs caused my horse to star

Note About Images