object; his face was burnt black with Afric's sun, his bare head was
wildly covered with long, black matted, and curly hair, but his eye was
soft and serene; and, as he stretched his throat upwards to give compass
to his voice, he seemed as if he would catch inspiration from the
Prophet in heaven. A coarse brown blanket enveloped his spare and
way-worn body, his only clothing and shelter from the heat by day and
the cold by night, a fold of which fell upon his naked feet.

The voice of the Arab vocalist was extremely plaintive, even to the
tones and inflections of distress, and the burden of his song was of
religion and of love--two sentiments which all pure minds delight to
combine. When he stopped a moment to take breath, a murmur of applause
vibrated through the still air of the evening, not indeed for the youth,
but for God! [8] for it was a prayer of the artless and enraptured
bystanders, invoking Allah to bless the singing lad, and also to bless
them, while ascribing all praise to the Deity.

This devout scene raised the Moors greatly in my estimation. I thought
men could not be barbarians, or even a jealous or vindictive race, who
were charmed with such simple melody of sounds, and with sentiments so
pure and true to nature.

The Arab youth sang:--

Oh, there's none but the One God!
I'll journey over the Desert far
To seek my love the fairest of maidens;
The camels moan loudly to carry me thither,
Gainly are they, and fleeter than the swift-legged ostrich.
Oh, there's none but the One God!