BACK
When the Arabs sing the praises of this wonderful creature they do so with great artistry. The elegance and quick-wittedness of the rhetorical talents of the Bedouin are as outstanding as their incredible memory.
We know that the day to day work was carried out by women and slaves. The men chatted, discussed, recited, and argued, day in, day out, in their tents and whilst on the way with their camels. Thus they trained their memory and acquired an eloquence that knows no equal.
The classics of Arabian literature, the songs, the world of fairytales and legends, the poems about heroes and weddings, were the subjects of conversation, as were the genealogy of the tribe, the horses, and the camels, the experiences of the hunt with falcons and salukis, and of the ghazus (raids). This daily communication within the social group lent a transparency to their whole existence. Nothing remained secret, and each individual avoided dishonourable behaviour. The absolute truth, especially with regard to the origins of their treasured horses and camels, which formed the basis of their existence, was as compellingly demanded as was the keeping of traditions of hospitality. The law of the desert had to be observed if one did not want to be shut out of the community, and without this community there was little chance of survival in the Arabia Deserta.
Thus the following, often amazing, stories could be inserted in the other, themed, chapters since they are always based on facts, or at least have a truthful core. Or as Reich-Ranicki would say: “They are often unlikely, but always true.”
W. Georg Olms (1999)
 Carle Vernet, Pegasus |
 Forray/Heicke, Schubra's Caffee in Kairo |
In this war, a Wahabi warrior was seriously wounded and fell from his horse, but was trapped by one foot in the stirrup. Immediately his mare went down flat on her belly so as to disengage his foot, then seized his belt in her teeth and carried him back to his tribe. This story has been confirmed to me by several witnesses.
 Willem de Irmaks Testas, Flucht des Emirs Elfey Bey von der Zitadelle in Kairo |
The Kohlan distinguishes itself amongst all the horses of the world by its attributes as well as by its shape. It is very devoted and faithful to his master, it has great courage, is admirably intrepid and has an excellent memory for the place it has been and treatment it has experienced. It is unapproachable to everyone except its master and does not lose track of the direction it came from even in the most violent skirmishes. As long as its strength does not fail it, it will snatch its master from danger when fatally wounded itself and return him to his own people. It possesses great intelligence, and without doubt notices if it is to be sold, and if its price is being negotiated. When the owner and the potential buyer enter the stable to do their deal there, it goes as far as suspecting this, looking at them talking, becoming restless and scraping the ground to show its discontent. The buyer, like any other stranger, hardly dares to go near it. If the deal is done, however, the seller then takes the Kohlan by the halter and hands it over with a piece of salted bread (a way of bidding it farewell and recognizing the rights of its new master). The seller leaves immediately, and from that moment on, one can see this headstrong animal being meek, obedient and devoted toward its new owner, whom it would have trampled a moment earlier. This is not a fairy-tale. I was witness to it on several occasions, in the years 1810 and 1811, when I bought three Kohlan from Turkish prisoners and the exact same thing confronted me during a deal in the stable. I took charge, with my own hands, of those horses, which I had not approached before the ceremony. I have heard the same thing from all Turks, Arabs and prisoners and also from a number of rich Armenian merchants who deal with horses and from time to time buy them on the spot. |
A Turkish general of the cavalry, Dano-Pasha at Mardin, had long been carrying on negotiations with an Arabian tribe on behalf of a fine mare of the Meneghi breed; finally a price of 60 bags, equivalent to 30 000 piasters, was agreed upon. At the fixed hour the chief of the tribe arrived at the Pasha’s courtyard with his mare. The Pasha tried to haggle again, but the sheikh proudly replied that he would not reduce the price by one single para. Morosely the Turk flung the sum to him remarking that 30 000 piasters for a horse was a price unheard of. The Arabian looked at him in silence and quietly tied the money into his white coat. Then he climbed down into the courtyard to say goodbye to his mare: he talked to her in Arabic, stroked her forehead and her eyes, examined her hooves, and while the animal stood attentively, he went round her slowly and inquiringly. Suddenly he jumped onto her bare back and the mare instantly shot forward and out of the courtyard.
As a rule the horses here always stand with the palan or felt saddle on their backs. Every noble man has at least one or two horses ready in his stable so that they only have to be bridled to be ridden. The Arabians, however, need no bridle at all; the halter rope is enough to stop the horse, a slight touch of the flat hand at the right or left side of the necks shows the horse in which direction to go. So within a few moments the Agas of the Pasha were in the saddle and went in pursuit of the fugitive.
The bare hoof of the Arabian mare had never touched a stone pavement so she rushed down the steep and rough path from the castle with some caution. The Turks on the other hand gallop down a precipitous slope full of sharp rock as we would gallop up a sand dune. The thin annular shoes, being forged cold, protect the hooves against any injury, and being used to such rides, the horses never make a false step. Where the grounds end, the agas had almost reached the sheikh, but when they were on the flat, the Arabian being in his element, races off straight as here there were neither ditches nor hedges, neither rivers nor hills to hinder his pace. Like a trained jockey who is in the lead of a race, the sheikh tries to ride not as fast, but as slowly as possible. Looking at his pursuers in regular intervals he keeps at shooting distance of them; he goes faster when they come nearer; he slows down when they fall back; he walks when they stop. In this way the chase goes on until the glowing disc of the sun sinks towards the evening, and only then he asks for all the strength of his mare. Leaning far forward he pushes his heels into the sides of the animal and with a loud “Jallah!” he darts along. The strong hooves thunder on the solid ground, and soon nothing but a cloud of dust shows the pursuers the direction in which the Arabian fled.
Dusk is very short here, where the disc of the sun sinks almost vertically, to the horizon so that the night soon covers any trace of the fugitive. The Turks, without food for themselves or water for their horses, find themselves twelve to fifteen hours away from home in a totally unknown region. They have no choice but to turn back and to convey the unwelcome message to their master, that horse and rider and money were lost. In the evening of the third day they reach Mardin, half dead of exhaustion and hunger, the horses can hardly move at all. What remains is the sad comfort of scolding at this new example of Arabian perfidy while they cannot but do justice to the mount of the traitor and recognize that such an animal is not easily overpaid for.
The next morning when the Imam called for the early prayer, the Pasha heard hooves clattering beneath his windows; it was the sheikh who quite innocently rode into the courtyard. “Sidi!” he called out: “Sir! Do you want your money or my horse?”
 [o.N.], Chevaux Arabes à S.A. Le Vice Roi d'Egypte |
One of the most signal instances of courage on the part of the horse and rider, and of perfect concert between both, is that recorded of the late Sir Robert Gillespie and his Arab. Sir Robert being present on the race course of Calcutta during one of the great Hindoo festivals, when many thousands are assembled to witness all sorts of shows, was suddenly alarmed by the shrieks and commotion of the crowd. On being informed that a tiger had escaped from his keepers, he immediately called for his horse, and, with no other weapon than a boarspear snatched from one of the by-standers, he rode to attack this formidable enemy. The tiger was probably amazed at finding himself in the middle of such a number of shrieking beings flying from him in all directions; but the moment he perceived Sir Robert, he crouched in the attitude of preparing to spring upon him; and that instant the gallant soldier passed his horse in a leap over tiger’s back, and struck the spear through his spine. It was a feat requiring the utmost conceivable unity of purpose on the part of horse and rider, almost realizing for the moment the fable of the centaur. Had either swerved or wavered for a moment both had been lost. But the brave steed knew his rider. The animal was a small grey, and was afterwards sent home as a present to the Prince Regent. |
 [o.N.], Bakhit, Étalon Arabe acheté en Egypte par Son
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The extent to which even today leading personalities in the Gulf states value the Arabian horse as highly as ancient poetry, was shown to me during my visit with H. R. H. Prince Badr Ben Abdul Aziz, Vice President of the National Guard and of the Equestrian Club. After a long discussion about the problems of breeding Arabians, H. R. H. Prince Badr asked me if I knew the story of the blind Bedouin sheikh who, with the help of his son, searched for a long time in vain for the ideal Arabian mare and was never satisfied with his son’s descriptions until, one day, he found her. I said that I did not know it, whereupon H. R. H. Prince Badr recited to me the words of praise with which the son described a mare to his father: “The expression in her eyes is that of a woman in love; her gait is that of a beautiful woman; her breast is like that of a lion; her flanks are like those of a gazelle. She is a drinker of the wind; she trots like a wolf and gallops like a fox; her coat is like a mirror; her hair is as dense as the feathers on an eagle’s wing, and her hoof as hard as the stone which can strike fire, and just wide enough for a mouse to build a nest inside; she is as gentle as a lamb, but like a panther in wrath if she is beaten or irritated. Her nostrils are open like the petals of a rose. Her shoulders turn into wings when she runs. Her legs are strong like those of the wild ostrich and muscled like those of a camel. Her eyelashes are as long as ears of barley, and her ears like those of two semi-precious stones on a spearhead!” Thereupon the blind sheikh said: ”My son, this is the mare I have been searching for all this time. You will do everything you must to obtain her.”
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According to the report of Stud Master Dr. W. Cranz, King Wilhelm II of Württemberg was struck by the unbelievable performance of the Arabian horses during Napoleon’s Russian Campaign and therefore urged the foundation of the Royal Stud at Weil.
 Victor Adam, Spahis Indigène |
 Henri Lalaisse, Spahis |
One day, when he was riding through the desert, he met a Bedouin, who rode with him for a while. They talked for a little while, and when Al-Haggag was sure that the Bedouin did not recognise him, he took the opportunity to find out what the people thought of him: "What do they say about Al-Haggag, our new governor?" he asked. The Bedouin shouted angrily: "You call this devil governor! This cursed criminal, this devastator, … may the most terrible death befall him! Allah let his soul burn in hell for eternity!"
Al-Haggag could only control himself with the greatest difficulty, he glowered at the Bedouin and interrupted his diatribe: "Do you know who you are talking to?" The Bedouin answered: "How could I? We have only just met." Al-Haggag expected the man to be struck dumb with horror as he said: "I am Al-Haggag Ibn Yusuf!" The Bedouin caught his breath for a moment, but then said with a friendly smile: "But brother, please keep this to yourself!"
Some time later Al-Haggag held a special banquet. Among the guests, there also was a simple Bedouin. All sat around the appetising spread of food, which was so well decorated that they could only be amazed. In the middle of the table was a tiny, particularly tasty looking snack. It magically captured the gaze of the hungry guests, and that of the Bedouin, as well. Any of them would have loved to grab it. Al-Haggag, who had planned the whole scene and was watching it carefully, said laconically: "Whoever grabs the snack will loose his head".
Then guests were afraid and remained silent, consoling themselves with other pieces of food. The Bedouin, however, looked at Al-Haggag, then at the tempting snack, then again at Al-Haggag, then again at the snack. Before he finally pulled up his sleeve, he said to Al-Haggag: "Great prince! You will look after my family, won’t you?" And so he grabbed the snack and put it in his mouth. Al-Haggag had to laugh and spared him the execution.
