"Whom a snake has bitten starts from a rope."

Moorish Proverb.

Descriptions of this art remembered in a book for boys read years before had prepared me for the most wonderful scenes, and when I first watched the performance with snakes which delights the Moors I was disappointed. Yet often as I might look on, there was nothing else to see, save in the faces and gestures of the crowd, who with child-like simplicity followed every step as though for the first time. These have for me a never-ending fascination. Thus it is that the familiar sounds of rapid and spasmodic beating on a tambourine, which tell that the charmer is collecting an audience, still prove an irresistible attraction for me as well. The ring in which I find myself is just a reproduction of that surrounding the story-teller of yester-e'en, but where his musicians sat there is a wilder group, more striking still in their appearance.

This time, also, the instruments are of another class, two or three of the plainest sheep-skin tambourines with two gut strings across the centre under the parchment, which gives them a peculiar twanging sound; and a couple of reeds, mere canes pierced with holes, each provided with a mouthpiece[page152] made of half an inch of flattened reed. Nothing is needed to add to the discord as all three are vigorously plied with cheek and palm.

The principal actor has an appearance of studied weirdness as he gesticulates wildly and calls on God to protect him against the venom of his pets. Contrary to the general custom of the country, he has let his black hair grow till it streams over his shoulders in matted locks. His garb is of the simplest, a dirty white shirt over drawers of similar hue completing his outfit.

Selecting a convenient stone as a seat, notebook in hand, I make up my mind to see the thing through. The "music" having continued five or ten minutes with the desired result of attracting a circle of passers-by, the actual performance is now to commence. On the ground in the centre lies a spare tambourine, and on one side are the two cloth-covered bottle-shaped baskets containing the snakes.

The chief charmer now advances, commencing to step round the ring with occasional beats on his tambourine, rolling his eyes and looking demented. Presently, having reached a climax of rapid beating and pacing, he suddenly stops in the centre with an extra "bang!"

"Now, every man who believes in our lord Mohammed ben AÏsa,^* say with me a FÁtihah."

Each of the onlookers extending his palms side by side before his face, they repeat the prayer in a sing-song voice, and as it concludes with a loud "Ameen," the charmer gives an agonized cry, as though deeply wrought upon. "Ah RijÁl el[page153] BlÁd" ("Oh Saints of the Town!"), he shouts, as he recommences his tambourining, this time even with increased vigour, beating the ground with his feet, and working his body up and down in a most extraordinary manner. The two others are also playing, and the noise is deafening. The chief figure appears to be raving mad; his starting eyes, his lithe and supple figure, and his streaming hair, give him the air of one possessed. His face is a study, a combination of fierceness and madness, yet of good-nature.

At last he sinks down exhausted, but after a moment rises and advances to the centre of the circle, picking up a tambourine.

"Now, SÎdi AÏsa"—turning to one of the musicians, whom he motions to cease their din—"what do you think happens to the man who puts a coin in there? Why, the holy saint, our lord Mohammed ben AÏsa, puts a ring round him like that," drawing a ring round a stone on the ground. "Is it not so?"

"It is, Ameen," from Sidi AÏsa.

"And what happens to him in the day time?"

"He is in the hands of God, and his people too."

"And in the night time?"

"He is in the hands of God, and his people too."

"And when at home?"

"He is in the hands of God, and his people too."

"And when abroad?"

"He is in the hands of God, and his people too."[page154]

At this a copper coin is thrown into the ring, and the charmer replies, "Now he who is master of sea and land, my lord Abd el KÁder el JÎlÁni,^† bless the giver of that coin! Now, for the love of God and of His blessed prophet, I offer a prayer for that generous one." Here the operation of passing their hands down their faces is performed by all.

"Now, there's another,"—as a coin falls—"and from a child, too! God bless thee now, my son. May my lord Ben AÏsa, my lord Abd es-SlÁm, and my lord Abd el KÁder, protect and keep thee!"

Then, as more coppers fall, similar blessings are invoked upon the donors, interspersed with catechising of the musicians with a view to making known the advantages to be reaped by giving something. At last, as nothing more seems to be forthcoming, the performance proper is proceeded with, and the charmer commences to dance on one leg, to a terrible din from the tambourines. Then he pauses, and summons a little boy from the audience, seating him in the midst, adjuring him to behave himself, to do as he is bid, and to have faith in "our lord Ben AÏsa." Then, seating himself behind the boy, he places his lips against his skull, and blows repeatedly, coming round to the front to look at the lad, to see if he is sufficiently affected, and returning to puff again. Finally he bites off a piece of the boy's cloak, and chews it. Now he wets his finger in his mouth, and after putting it into the dust makes lines across his legs and arms, all the time calling on his patron saint; next holding the piece of cloth in his hands and walking round the ring for all to see it.[page155]

"Come hither," he says to a bystander; "search my mouth and see if there be anything there."

The search is conducted as a farmer would examine a horse's mouth, with the result that it is declared empty.

"Now I call on the prophet to witness that there is no deception," as he once more restores the piece of cloth to his mouth, and pokes his fingers into his neck, drawing them now up his face.

"Enough!"

The voices of the musicians, who have for the latter part of the time been giving forth a drawling chorus, cease, but the din of the tambourines continues, while the performer dances wildly, till he stops before the lad on the ground, and takes from his mouth first one date and then another, which the lad is told to eat, and does so, the on-lookers fully convinced that they were transformed from the rag.

Now it is the turn of one of the musicians to come forward, his place being taken by the retiring performer, after he has made another collection in the manner already described.

"He who believes in God and in the power of our lord Mohammed ben AÏsa, say with me a FÁtihah," cries the new man, extending his palms turned upwards before him to receive the blessings he asks, and then brings one of the snake-baskets forward, plunging his hand into its sack-like mouth, and sharply drawing it out a time or two, as if afraid of being bitten.

Finally he pulls the head of one of the reptiles through, and leaves it there, darting out its fangs, while he snatches up and wildly beats the tambourine[page156] by his side. He now seizes the snake by the neck, and pulls it right out, the people starting back as it coils round in the ring, or uncoils and makes a plunge towards someone. Now he pulls out another, and hangs it round his neck, saying, "I take refuge with the saint who was dead and is alive, with our lord Mohammed son of AÏsa, and with the most holy Abd el KÁder el JÎlÁni, king of land and sea. Now, let every one who believes bear witness with me and say a FÁtihah!"

"Say a FÁtihah!" echoes one of the still noisy musicians, by way of chorus.

"Now may our lord Abd el KÁder see the man who makes a contribution with his eyes."

Chorus: "With his eyes!"

"And may his heart find rest, and our lord Abd er-RahmÁn protect him!"

Chorus: "Protect him!"

"Now, I call you to witness, I bargain with our lord Abd el KÁder for a forfeit!"

Chorus: "For a forfeit!"

A copper is thrown into the ring, and as he picks it up and hands it to the musician, the performer exclaims—

"Take this, see, and at the last day may the giver of it see our lord Abd el KÁder before him!"

Chorus: "Before him!"

"May he ever be blessed, whether present or absent!"

Chorus: "Present or absent!"

"Who wishes to have a good conscience and a clean heart? Oh, ye beloved of the Lord! See, take from that dear one" (who has thrown down a copper).[page157]

The contributions now apparently sufficing for the present, the performance proceeds, but the crowd having edged a little too close, it is first necessary to increase the space in the centre by swinging one of the reptiles round by the tail, whereat all start back.

"Ah! you may well be afraid!" exclaims the charmer. "Their fangs mean death, if you only knew it, but for the mercies of my lord, the son of AÏsa."

"Ameen!" responds the chorus.

Hereupon he proceeds to direct the head of the snake to his mouth, and caressingly invites it to enter. Darting from side to side, it finally makes a plunge down his throat, whereon the strangers shudder, and the habituÉs look with triumphant awe. Wildly he spins on one foot that all may see, still holding the creature by the neck with one hand, and by the tail with the other. At length, having allowed the greater part of its length to disappear in this uncanny manner, he proceeds to withdraw it, the head emerging with the sound of a cork from a bottle. The sight has not been pleasant, but the audience, transfixed, gives a sigh of relief as the tambourines strike up again, and the reed chimes in deafeningly.

"Who says they are harmless? Who says their fangs are extracted?" challenges the performer. "Look here!"

The seemingly angry snake has now fastened on his arm, and is permitted to draw blood, as though in reward for its recent treatment.

"Is any incredulous here? Shall I try it on thee?"[page158]

The individual addressed, a poverty-stricken youth whose place was doubtless required for some more promising customer behind, flees in terror, as the gaping jaws approach him. One and another having been similarly dismissed from points of vantage, and a redistribution of front seats effected, the incredulous are once more tauntingly addressed and challenged. This time the challenge is accepted by a foreigner, who hands in a chicken held by its wings.

"So? Blessed be God! Its doom is sealed if it comes within reach of the snake. See here!"

All eagerly press forward, many rising to their feet, and it is difficult to see over their shoulders the next gruesome act. The reptile, held by the neck in the performer's right hand, is shown the chicken in the other, and annoyed by having it poked in its face, too frightened to perceive what is happening. In a moment the fangs are shot out, and a wound inflicted in the exposed part under the wing. Blood appears, and the bird is thrown down, being held in place by the performer's foot till in a few minutes its struggles cease. Then, picking the victim up, he holds it aloft by one wing to show its condition, and exultingly calls for a FÁtihah.

It is enough: my patience is exhausted, and I rise to make off with stiff knees, content at last with what I have seen and heard of the "charming" of snakes in Morocco.

* For the history of this man and his snake-charming followers see "The Moors," p. 331.

† The surname of the BaghdÁd saint.

A MOROCCO FANDAK (CARAVANSARAI).
Cavilla, Photo., Tangier.
A MOROCCO FANDAK (CARAVANSARAI).

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