LITMIR.BIZ

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amphitheatre, until Mohammed Bey blew up a part of it to prevent its being occupied as a fortress by the Arabs. Continuing along the coast to Susa, Bruce once more arrived at Tunis, possessing drawings of what he considered "to be all the antiquities worth notice in the territories of Tunis and Algiers."

      Notwithstanding the great heat to which he had been subjected, his health was good, and he had hitherto met with no accident whatever: but he had now a very serious undertaking to perform, which was to cross the desert to Tripoli; and the Bey of Tunis being at enmity with the Basha of Tripoli, could give him no letters of introduction. He accordingly took leave of the bey and proceeded to Gerba, the island of the Lotophagi, where the Bey of Tunis, with his usual munificence, had prepared for him a house, with every sort of refreshment.

      On this coast there is no sort of fruit whatever: neither bush, nor tree, nor verdure of any kind, excepting the short grass that separates this country from the moving sands of the desert. About four days' journey from Tripoli, Bruce met the Emir Hadji, conducting a caravan of pilgrims from Fez in Morocco, across the whole of Africa, to Mecca—that is, from the Atlantic Ocean to the western banks of the Red Sea. The caravan consisted of about three thousand men, with an immense number of camels laden with merchandise, water, flour, and food, for the hadjis or pilgrims; and such a crowd of uncivilized beings, wildly traversing such a vast inhospitable desert, yet urged forward and supported by a principle of religion, formed a very extraordinary spectacle. They had scarcely passed when Bruce and his little party were assailed by a number of Arab horsemen, whom they repulsed with considerable difficulty, and with a loss of four men.

      On arriving at Tripoli, Bruce was received by his countryman, the British consul (the Hon. Mr. Fraser of Lovat), with that kindness and attention which he much needed after so rude a journey, made with such diligence that two of his horses had died from fatigue; but as the basha was unfortunately at variance with Mr. Fraser, Bruce was much disappointed at learning that it would be absolutely necessary for him to return by the coast of the Lesser Syrtis to Tunis, to reside there until Mr. Harrison, who was appointed by government to settle the differences with the Barbary States, should solicit permission for him to travel through the dominions of Tripoli.

      To Tunis, therefore, Bruce returned, and remained there till August, 1766, when this permission reaching him, he again crossed the desert, by Sfax and Gerba, to Tripoli, where he was hospitably received by the French, Venetian, and British consuls. From Tripoli he despatched an English servant to Smyrna with his books, drawings, and supernumerary instruments, having torn from his books those pages which he conceived might be of service in the Pentapolis or other parts of the Cyrenaicum, and by these precautions most fortunately saved the greater part of his labours in Africa. He then crossed the Gulf of Sidra, formerly known by the name of Syrtis Major, and arrived at Bengazi, the ancient Berenice, built by Ptolemy Philadelphus.

      The brother of the Bey of Tripoli commanded here, a young man, weak in understanding and in health. For more than a year Bengazi had been suffering from severe famine; many people died from starvation every day, and some of the living were actually hovering round the corpses of the dead for food which human nature shudders to think of. Bruce at once fled from this dreadful scene. Travelling over a great part of the Pentapolis, he visited the ruins of Arsinoë and Ras Sem, and then approaching the seacoast, came to Ptolemeta, the ancient Ptolemais, the walls and gates of which he found still entire.

Here he was informed that the Welled Ali-Arabs had plundered the Morocco caravan, which he had met in the desert; that the pilgrims had been left to perish for want of water; that there was a famine at Derna, the neighbouring town to which he had intended to proceed; that the plague had also appeared, and that the town was engaged in a civil war. This torrent of bad news was irresistible; and Bruce at once resolved to fly from this inhospitable coast, and save for the public that knowledge and information which he had already so resolutely and painfully acquired. Accordingly, with his little party, he embarked on board a small Greek vessel bound for Lampedoza, but the destination of which the master had agreed to change to Crete. The vessel was badly appointed; and, when it was too late, Bruce found that, although she had plenty of sail, she carried not an ounce of ballast. A number of half-famished men, women, and children, anxious to fly from the dreadful fate which awaited them, crowded on board; but the passage was short, the vessel light, and the master, as Bruce supposed, well-accustomed to these seas. At daybreak the next day they sailed; and it was then discovered that the captain was entirely ignorant of his duty, and wholly unable to manage his ship.[10] A violent storm overtook them, and the vessel, falling to leeward, struck on a rock near the entrance of the harbour of Bengazi: fortunately, however, the wind suddenly lulled, and Roger M'Cormack, Bruce's Irish servant (who had been once a sailor in the British service), lowered the largest boat, into which he, Bruce, and a multitude of people instantly jumped. Fearing they would be swamped, they pushed off from the ship, and with two oars endeavoured to row the boat ashore. Bruce had thrown off all his clothes except a short under-waistcoat and his linen drawers; a silk sash or girdle was wrapped round him; a pencil, pocket-book, and watch were in the breast-pocket of his waistcoat; two Moorish and two of his English servants accompanied him; and the rest of his party remained on board. They had scarcely got a boat's length from the ship, when a wave nearly swamped them, and a shriek of despair announced their helpless situation. The next wave was approaching evidently to overwhelm them; and Bruce, fearing that some woman, child, or helpless man would cling hold upon him, entangle him, and thus ignominiously drag him down, resolved at least to make an effort to save himself, and, exclaiming to his servants, both in Arabic and English, "We are lost! If you can swim, follow me!" he jumped overboard.

      In moments of real danger, there is nothing which more distinguishes a man than the simple fact of doing something; for the general effect of fear is to paralyze the mind as well as the body, and men under this base feeling do nothing. Bruce at first allowed himself to go to leeward, in order to get clear of the boat. A strong, practised swimmer, in the vigour of life, full of health, and accustomed to exertion and fatigue of every description, he got on very well as long as he was in deep water; but, as soon as he came to the surf, he received a blow on his breast from the eddy wave which threw him upon his back, made him swallow a quantity of water, and nearly suffocated him. The next wave left him almost breathless and exhausted. At last, finding his hands and knees on the sand, he fixed his nails into it, and desperately maintaining his hold until the sea for a moment retired, he managed to crawl forward a few feet: perfectly exhausted, he then fainted away, and remained for a considerable time insensible to the waves which, one after another, were eagerly rolling towards the shore, as if greedy to regain their prey.

      At this critical moment, the Arabs, who were but two short miles from the shore, came down in crowds to plunder the vessel, all the people from which were now taken on shore, those only being lost who had perished in the boat. Bruce was first awakened from his trance by a blow with the butt end of a lance on the back of his neck; but it was merely accident that it had not been the point, for his short waistcoat, which had been purchased at Algiers, and his sash and drawers cut in the Turkish fashion, made the Arabs believe he was a Turk; and, after many hard blows, kicks, and curses, they stripped their defenceless and exhausted victim, leaving him as naked as their barren shore. After treating the rest of the passengers and crew in the same manner, they sought to plunder the bodies of those who had been drowned. In the mean while, Bruce walked, or rather crawled, to some white sandy hillocks, where he sat down and concealed himself as well as he could, for he knew that if he approached the tents where the women were while he was naked, he would receive bastinadoes considerably heavier than the last. Smarting from the discipline he had already undergone, it suddenly occurred to him that, by the gibberish in imitation of Turkish which the Arabs had uttered to him while they were beating and stripping him, they had taken him for a Turk, and had treated him accordingly. At this moment an old Arab, attended by several young men, came up to him. He offered them the salute of "Salum Alicum," with which at first they were offended, asking him what, as a Turk, he had to do there? Bruce very readily replied that he was no Turk, but a poor Christian physician, a dervish, that went about the world seeking to do good for God's sake; that when he was wrecked he was flying from famine, and was going to Greece to get bread. A ragged, dirty baracan was immediately thrown over him, and he was conducted to a tent, through the end

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