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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Campbell, Iain.
Symbian OS communications programming / Iain Campbell, with Dale Self . . .
[et al.]. – 2nd Edition.
p. cm.
Previously published: Symbian OS communications programming / Michael J.
Jipping, 2002.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-0-470-51228-9 (pbk. : alk. paper)
1. Symbian OS (Computer file) 2. Operating systems (Computers) 3. Data
transmission systems. I. Jipping, Michael J. Symbian OS communications
programming. II. Title.
QA76.76.063J56 2997
055.4
482 – dc22
2007011028
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN: 978-0-470-51228-9
Typeset in 10/12pt Optima by Laserwords Private Limited, Chennai, India
Printed and bound in Great Britain by Bell Bain, Glasgow
This book is printed on acid-free paper responsibly manufactured from sustainable
forestry in which at least two trees are planted for each one used for paper production.](https://image.slidesharecdn.com/24159-250416015608-86ed88e7/85/Symbian-OS-Communications-Programming-2nd-ed-Edition-Iain-Campbell-11-320.jpg)
![This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
you are located before using this eBook.
Title: Zoraida: A Romance of the Harem and the Great Sahara
Author: William Le Queux
Illustrator: Harold Piffard
Release date: October 9, 2012 [eBook #40994]
Most recently updated: October 23, 2024
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
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- 10. Symbian OS Communications Programming 2nd Edition By Iain Campbell With Dale Self, Emlyn Howell, Ian Bunning, Ibrahim Rahman, Lucy Caffery, Malcolm Box, Matthew Elliott, Natasha Ho, Pierre Cochart, Tim Howes, Twm Davies Reviewed by Chris Notton, Dan Handley, David Harper, David Singleton, Donald Page, Graeme Duncan, Ian Bunning, John Roe, Malcolm Box, Tim Howes Head of Symbian Press Freddie Gjertsen Managing Editor Satu McNabb
- 11. Copyright ¤ 2007 Symbian Software Ltd Published by John Wiley & Sons, Ltd The Atrium, Southern Gate, Chichester, West Sussex PO19 8SQ, England Telephone (+44) 1243 779777 Email (for orders and customer service enquiries): cs-books@wiley.co.uk Visit our Home Page on www.wileyeurope.com or www.wiley.com All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise, except under the terms of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 or under the terms of a licence issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency Ltd, 90 Tottenham Court Road, London W1T 4LP, UK, without the permission in writing of the Publisher. Requests to the Publisher should be addressed to the Permissions Department, John Wiley & Sons Ltd, The Atrium, Southern Gate, Chichester, West Sussex PO19 8SQ, England, or emailed to permreq@wiley.co.uk, or faxed to (+44) 1243 770620. Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book are trade names, service marks, trademarks or registered trademarks of their respective owners. The Publisher is not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. This publication is designed to provide accurate and authoritative information in regard to the subject matter covered. It is sold on the understanding that the Publisher is not engaged in rendering professional services. If professional advice or other expert assistance is required, the services of a competent professional should be sought. The Bluetooth£ word mark and logos are registered trademarks owned by Bluetooth SIG, Inc. and any use of such marks by Symbian Software Ltd is under license. Other trademarks and trade names are those of their respective owners. Other Wiley Editorial Offices John Wiley & Sons Inc., 111 River Street, Hoboken, NJ 07030, USA Jossey-Bass, 989 Market Street, San Francisco, CA 94103-1741, USA Wiley-VCH Verlag GmbH, Boschstr. 12, D-69469 Weinheim, Germany John Wiley & Sons Australia Ltd, 42 McDougall Street, Milton, Queensland 4064, Australia John Wiley & Sons (Asia) Pte Ltd, 2 Clementi Loop #02-01, Jin Xing Distripark, Singapore 129809 John Wiley & Sons Canada Ltd, 6045 Freemont Blvd, Mississauga, Ontario, L5R 4J3, Canada Wiley also publishes its books in a variety of electronic formats. Some content that appears in print may not be available in electronic books. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Campbell, Iain. Symbian OS communications programming / Iain Campbell, with Dale Self . . . [et al.]. – 2nd Edition. p. cm. Previously published: Symbian OS communications programming / Michael J. Jipping, 2002. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-470-51228-9 (pbk. : alk. paper) 1. Symbian OS (Computer file) 2. Operating systems (Computers) 3. Data transmission systems. I. Jipping, Michael J. Symbian OS communications programming. II. Title. QA76.76.063J56 2997 055.4 482 – dc22 2007011028 British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN: 978-0-470-51228-9 Typeset in 10/12pt Optima by Laserwords Private Limited, Chennai, India Printed and bound in Great Britain by Bell Bain, Glasgow This book is printed on acid-free paper responsibly manufactured from sustainable forestry in which at least two trees are planted for each one used for paper production.
- 12. Contents Contributors ix About the Authors xi Acknowledgments xv Symbian Press Acknowledgements xvii Section I: Introduction and Overview 1 Introduction 3 1.1 What is in this Book 3 1.2 What isn’t in this Book 4 1.3 Expected Level of Knowledge 6 1.4 Structure of this Book 7 1.5 To which Versions of Symbian OS does the Information in this Book Apply? 8 1.6 Example Applications 9 1.7 Reading Guide 9 1.8 Other Sources of Information 9 1.9 The History of Symbian OS Communications 10 1.10 Summary 12 2 Overview 13 2.1 Low-level Functionality 14 2.2 High-level Functionality 19 2.3 Summary 23
- 13. vi CONTENTS Section II: Low-level Technology and Frameworks 3 An Introduction to ESOCK 27 3.1 Overview of ESOCK 27 3.2 Into Practice 52 3.3 Summary 62 4 Bluetooth 63 4.1 Bluetooth Technology Overview 63 4.2 Bluetooth in Symbian OS 82 4.3 Example Symbian OS Bluetooth Application 112 4.4 AV Protocols and Profiles 118 4.5 Summary 124 5 Infrared 125 5.1 Introduction 125 5.2 Infrared Overview 125 5.3 IrDA in Symbian OS 129 5.4 Summary 153 6 IP and Related Technologies 155 6.1 IP Networks Overview 156 6.2 IP Networks and Symbian OS 160 6.3 Network Bearer Technologies in Symbian OS 163 6.4 Using the Network Connection 175 6.5 Information Gathering and Connection Management 193 6.6 Quality of Service 197 6.7 Summary 203 7 Telephony in Symbian OS 205 7.1 Overview 206 7.2 Using the ETel ISV API 207 7.3 Restrictions and Considerations 211 7.4 Summary 214 Section III: High-level Technology and Frameworks 8 Receiving Messages 217 8.1 Example Application – Summary Screen 218 8.2 The Message Server 220 8.3 The Message Store 223 8.4 Messaging Application Design and Implementation 233
- 14. CONTENTS vii 8.5 Receiving Application-specific SMS Messages 235 8.6 Summary 240 9 Sending Messages 241 9.1 Examples Provided in this Chapter 242 9.2 SendAs Overview 242 9.3 Services/Accounts 246 9.4 Technical Description 246 9.5 Using the UI Platform Send Dialogs 250 9.6 A Brief Background to MTMs 255 9.7 The Flickr MTM 257 9.8 The Flickr Data MTM 260 9.9 The Flickr UI MTM 262 9.10 Flickr Client MTM 263 9.11 The Flickr Server MTM 265 9.12 MTM DLLs and Platsec 268 9.13 FlickrMTM Shared Settings 269 9.14 Installation of an MTM 269 9.15 Summary 271 10 OBEX 273 10.1 OBEX Overview 273 10.2 OBEX in Symbian OS 289 10.3 Summary 341 11 HTTP 343 11.1 HTTP Overview 343 11.2 Getting Started: Creating a Session 344 11.3 Creating and Submitting a Transaction 347 11.4 Supplying Body Data 349 11.5 Monitoring a Transaction 350 11.6 Cancelling a Transaction 353 11.7 Closing a Transaction 353 11.8 Stringpool 353 11.9 Proxy Support 355 11.10 Cookie Handling 356 11.11 HTTP Connection Configuration 356 11.12 Platform Security 361 11.13 Filters 361 11.14 Summary 364 12 OMA Device Management 365 12.1 Introduction 365 12.2 Device Management In Symbian OS 366 12.3 OMA Device Management Essentials 367
- 15. viii CONTENTS 12.4 The Example DM Adapter 372 12.5 Summary 387 Section IV: Development Tips 13 Setting Up for Development 391 13.1 Bluetooth 391 13.2 IrDA 394 13.3 Network Connections for IP 396 13.4 Telephony 403 13.5 ‘Help, help, my serial port’s been stolen’ 404 13.6 Summary 406 14 The Future 407 14.1 Better Networks 407 14.2 Better Interaction 409 14.3 Better Services 410 14.4 The End 411 Appendix A: Web Resources 413 Appendix B: Authorizing FlickrMTM to Use Your Flickr Account 415 Appendix C: SendWorkBench.app Guide 419 Index 421
- 16. Contributors Head of Symbian Press Freddie Gjertsen Authors Iain Campbell Dale Self Emlyn Howell Ian Bunning Ibrahim Rahman Lucy Caffery Malcolm Box Matthew Elliott Natasha Ho Pierre Cochart Tim Howes Twm Davies Symbian Press Editorial Managing Editor Satu McNabb
- 17. x CONTRIBUTORS Reviewers and additional contributors Chris Notton Dan Handley David Harper David Singleton Donald Page Graeme Duncan Ian Bunning John Roe Malcolm Box Tim Howes
- 18. About the Authors Iain Campbell, lead author Iain joined the comms team (as it then was) in Symbian in 2001, working on Symbian OS v6.1, v7.0 and v7.0s for the Nokia 7650, Sony Ericsson P800 and Nokia 6600, respectively. After spending a year working in the Bluetooth team creating the Symbian OS PAN profile implementation, he moved to Symbian’s Technical Consulting group where he has spent the last three years helping Symbian’s licensees and partners build Symbian OS-based phones. As part of this Iain has been involved in many aspects of Symbian OS – from debugging components at all levels of the system, through advising on adaptation to particular hardware platforms, to high-level system design. Iain received an MEng in Information Systems Engineering from Imperial College, London, and enjoys spending his spare time finding out how things work. Malcolm Box Malcolm first joined Psion Software in 1998, shortly before it became Symbian. His first job was writing the kernel for the Ericsson R380 phone, following which he led the design and implementation of the Symbian OS Bluetooth stack. Subsequently he’s worked in the System Architecture group, Symbian’s reference design team and with licensees as a senior consultant. He has previously co-authored Symbian C++ for Mobile Phones and contributes to various open-source projects. He would like to thank his wife, Judith, and children Franz and Abigail for their support and patience during the writing of this book.
- 19. xii ABOUT THE AUTHORS Ian Bunning Ian attended Trinity Hall at the University of Cambridge, where he gained an MA in Computer Science. On graduating in 2001 he joined the Shortlink team at Symbian, and soon became the expert on the IrDA subsystem. Since then he has also worked on a number of OBEX projects, as well as a smaller number of Bluetooth projects – the main one being part of the initial implementation of Bluetooth PAN profile. He is currently focusing on USB, but frequently supports maintenance work on IrDA and OBEX. Out of work hours, Ian is a keen photographer, and also makes items of jewellery. Lucy Caffery Lucy has been at Symbian since 2000, where she has worked for the Licensee Product Development team helping UIQ licensees to create Symbian products. Starting out as a Bluetooth specialist, she became Head of the Comms Porting group in LPD, a team which specializes in consultancy in all areas of the Symbian OS Comms subsystem. More recently Lucy has become the Deputy Head of LPD. Lucy has been involved in comms on all the UIQ devices that have shipped to date: Sony Ericsson P8xx, P9xx, M600i, W950i and P990, Motorola A92x, A1000 and M1000. Pierre Cochart Pierre Cochart graduated from King’s College London in 2000. He then joined Symbian as a graduate in the telephony team to help with the development of the 7.0 OS release. In 2003 he joined Licensee Product Development group to work in the Comms Porting group where he assisted customers with software development in various areas of comms. Pierre is now responsible for handling the communications area for the Japanese licensees. Twm Davies Twm joined Symbian as a graduate in 1999. Twm has had a varied career within Symbian, initially working as a developer of the ’crystal’ messaging application which provided the UI to the Nokia communicator range, then as a technical consultant for Motorola, Nokia and significantly the technical lead on the first non-Nokia S60 handset, the Siemens SX1. Twm currently works as Product Manager for performance. Twm graduated
- 20. ABOUT THE AUTHORS xiii from Cardiff University with a First Honours Computer Science BSc. Interests outside of work include collecting mispronunciations of his name, scuba diving, Vespas and he runs a web site selling his art works. Matt Elliott Matt joined Symbian in 2004 as a software engineer, and has spent his time at Symbian in the Device Provisioning team. He graduated with a BEng in Digital Electronics from the University of Kent, and coming from a hardware background still misses his soldering iron (but not the burnt fingers). Matt would like to thank all the past and present members of the Device Provisioning team for their carefully worded criticism/help, and his long suffering girlfriend Elaine. Natasha Ho Natasha joined Symbian in 1998, where she worked on the development of the Ericsson R380. Since then, she has contributed to almost every UIQ smartphone including the Motorola A920 and A1000, the Arima U300 and more recently the Sony Ericsson P800, P900, M600i, W950i and P990i. She has worked on various parts of the Symbian OS but now likes to concentrate solely on networking. Prior to Symbian, Natasha worked at Motorola designing and writing software for the GSM and GPRS cellular infrastructures. Natasha graduated from University College London with a BSc in Computer Science. Emlyn Howell Emlyn Howell has worked on various technologies within Symbian over the past seven years including messaging and telephony. He is currently the Comms Architect for the Reference Designs team. He lives and works in Cambridge. Tim Howes After studying for a PhD in the effects of indirect lightning strikes on power lines, Tim joined Symbian Software, where for seven years he has worked primarily within the Bluetooth area. Within the Bluetooth SIG, Tim represents Symbian on the Bluetooth Architecture Review Board, and contributes to the Core Specification, Audio Video and Medical Devices Working groups. Despite the high technology area Tim works in, he has a strong interest in mechanical timepieces.
- 21. xiv ABOUT THE AUTHORS Ibrahim Rahman Ibrahim has been at Symbian for eight years. Working as a software developer in areas including email and HTTP. Dale Self Dale started work for Psion Software in mid-1998, which transformed to Symbian about a week later. Initially working in the messaging team on an IMAP4 mail client, he later moved to the PAN team where he has worked with Bluetooth, OBEX and USB technologies ever since. During this time he has seen a great deal of growth; both in Symbian, and, sadly, in his waist measurement.
- 22. Acknowledgements Firstly we’d like to thank the Symbian Press team who helped put this book together, especially Satu, who kept us working on it until it was finished – without her it would probably be sitting half-written on various hard disks around Symbian. Secondly we’d like to thank all of our wives, husbands, partners and significant others for putting up with us whilst we hid away in the evenings and weekends writing the material for this book. I’d like to thank Apple for creating a computer that’s a pleasure to use – it made the whole editing process so much less painful. And finally I’d like to extend an additional thank you to my wife Chris, who put up with me not moving from in front of the computer for a month whilst I pulled the book into shape. Iain Campbell
- 24. Symbian Press Acknowledgements Symbian Press would like to thank Iain for his patience during this project and for the countless hours he spent polishing the text into perfection. We’d also like to thank the authors Dale, Emlyn, Ian, Ibrahim, Lucy, Malcolm, Matt, Natasha, Pierre, Tim and Twm for their dedication and hard work, and all the reviewers for their time and willingness to share their technical knowledge.
- 26. Section I Introduction and Overview
- 28. 1 Introduction Welcome to the updated edition of Symbian OS Communications Programming! In this book we’ll introduce you to much of the major communications functionality in Symbian OS and demonstrate how to perform common tasks in each area. For this new edition we’ve started from scratch to produce chapters that are relevant to you as developers. Each chapter gives background information on the technology where necessary, an overview of the functionality provided in Symbian OS, and descriptions or examples of how to use the Symbian OS APIs. In cases where APIs or implementation differ between Symbian OS-based devices this is noted, and when the user interface platforms work differently then we’ll show you what those differences are, or at least point you in the direction of some documentation that does. 1.1 What is in this Book In this book we focus on using and extending Symbian OS functionality using the native C++ APIs. Whilst it is also possible to use Java to develop applications for Symbian OS devices, we do not cover that in this book. We also focus on APIs available in standard UIQ3 and S60 3rd edition SDKs – thus engineers at Symbian’s licensees and partners will want to look elsewhere for details on the internals of the Symbian OS subsystems that we describe. However, the material in this book is suited to all developers – at third parties, Symbian’s licensees and Symbian’s partners – who wish to use the functionality described. This book should also prove useful to newcomers to Symbian OS in the device creation community, providing a high-level overview of the communications side of Symbian OS, and an idea of how it all fits together. However, this is not likely to be sufficient for creating a device, for that you will need to look elsewhere.
- 29. 4 INTRODUCTION There are three main user interfaces supported on Symbian OS – MOAP, S60 and UIQ. At present, only S60 and UIQ allow developers to extend functionality natively in the aftermarket, so we concentrate on those platforms in this book. S60 and UIQ have, in some places, differences in the way they choose to use and expose certain Symbian OS functionality. As a result, some details given in this book differ between the different UI platforms. Where this is the case we will highlight this, along with tips on how to use the functionality on each platform. In some cases functionality might have an alternate implementation on a given platform, in which case we will point you to the appropriate developer documentation. In other cases, it might be missing entirely, which might mean you need to reconsider your development plans. In cases where functionality is missing or not yet exposed, it is possible that it will be available in a later release of that UI platform – check with the appropriate developer website for more information in these cases. The scope of this book is quite broad – not only will we discuss the core communications functionality in Symbian OS – Bluetooth“, IrDA, TCP/IP and telephony, but we also look at some of the main areas where those technologies are employed – the messaging framework and plug-ins, the HTTP stack, the OBject EXchange (OBEX) stack and the OMA Device Management system. Therefore whether you need access to communications functionality at a high or a low level, there should be something in this book for you. 1.2 What isn’t in this Book Symbian’s licensees have a lot of flexibility when creating a device – as is necessary in a market where there is plenty of differentiation between products. As such, the supported feature set in any given device depends greatly on the market segment at which that device is aimed. You can expect to find that some features are not supported in given devices – either where they are not suitable, or cost-effective enough to be included. Equally, some devices have leading-edge features that have been developed for differentiation – in these cases, the generic implementa- tion developed when the feature becomes widely available may differ from the original one, which is normally highly tailored for the lead device. Throughout this book we describe the generic implementa- tions – the ones you can rely upon to remain compatible beyond the initial implementation. Therefore it is best to use these implementations wherever possible to minimize, or eliminate, the amount of rework your application requires when deploying it to a new device.
- 30. Random documents with unrelated content Scribd suggests to you:
- 34. The Project Gutenberg eBook of Zoraida: A Romance of the Harem and the Great Sahara
- 35. This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook. Title: Zoraida: A Romance of the Harem and the Great Sahara Author: William Le Queux Illustrator: Harold Piffard Release date: October 9, 2012 [eBook #40994] Most recently updated: October 23, 2024 Language: English Credits: Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ZORAIDA: A ROMANCE OF THE HAREM AND THE GREAT SAHARA ***
- 37. William Le Queux
- 38. Zoraida
- 39. A Romance of the Harem and the Great Sahara
- 40. Chapter One. Ali Ben Hafiz. The adventure was strange, the mystery inexplicable. A blazing noontide in the month of Moharram. Away across the barren desert to the distant horizon nothing met the aching eye but a dreary waste of burning red-brown sand under a cloudless sky shining like burnished copper. Not an object relieved the wearying monotony of the waterless region forsaken by nature, not a palm, not a rock, not a knoll, not a vestige of herbage; nothing but the boundless silent expanse of that wild and wonderful wilderness, the Great Sahara, across which the sand-laden wind swept ever and anon in short stifling gusts hot as the breath from an oven. Far beyond the Atlas mountains, under the fiery rays of the African sun, I was riding with all speed in order to overtake a caravan which I had been informed by the cadi at Wargla had started for Noum-en-Nas, the small town in the Touat Oasis, two days before my arrival. The caravan, I learned, was composed of camels, therefore, mounted as I was on a fleet Arab stallion, and guiding myself by my pocket compass and the very inadequate map of the Dépôt de la Guerre, I expected to come upon them ere two suns had set. Four long breathless days had now passed, yet I could detect no living thing. In the far south of Algeria the intense dry heat of summer always affects Europeans, and although clad lightly in haick and burnouse, with my feet thrust into rough slippers, I was
- 41. no exception. Alone in that trackless, arid desert, with my food and water nearly consumed and my brain aflame with fever, I was bound to admit my position decidedly unenviable. I was afflicted by a hundred miseries. Into my face the glaring noonday heat was reflected by the sand; I was hungry, my throat was parched, the racking pain of fatigue cramped my bones, and my horse, weary and jaded, stumbled now and then as he plodded slowly onward under the fierce, pitiless rays. The two Chasseurs d’Afrique who had been sent with me for protection by my friend the General of Division, had foolishly partaken of melons soon after leaving Tuggurt, and had been stricken down with illness in consequence; therefore I had been compelled to set out upon my journey into the Areg alone. Suddenly, about an hour after noon, my eager eyes were rewarded by a sight in the far distance of a cloud of dust. Spurring my horse, I galloped onward, and in half an hour the bells of the camels and the jingle of the horses’ trappings fell upon my ears. The dense whirling cloud of sand preceded the cavalcade, and whenever a gust of wind parted it, slow-plodding camels heavily laden with merchandise, glittering arms, and flowing scarlet and white burnouses could be seen. In this way the caravan presented itself as I pressed on towards its flank. Within fifty paces of the vanguard I dug my heels into the horse’s sides and bounded across to the head of the convoy of a dozen Spahis. A solitary rider journeying across the desert is such an unusual spectacle that the ferocious- looking advance guard, fearing attack, shouted and lowered their rifles.
- 42. “Phtaris! Peace be upon thee!” I cried in Arabic, seeing myself received in such a hostile manner. “Cowards! Thou seemest afraid that a single Englishman will attack thy caravan!” The guards, thus reproached, muttering that they were pressing through the turbulent country of the Beni Zougs, raised their weapons with a look of shame upon their dark- bearded faces, while their chief reined his horse to interrogate me. “Whose is this caravan?” I asked, disregarding his string of rapidly-uttered inquiries. “It belongeth to Ali Ben Hafiz, the merchant of Biskra,” he replied. “And thou art on thy way to Noum-en-Nas?” “True,” he answered, with a puzzled look. “But how dost thou know? What dost thou want with us?” “Conduct me to thy master,” I said. “It is imperative that I should speak with him.” As I uttered these words, an elderly grave-faced man, with a long white beard flowing over his spotless burnouse, rode up, and, judging him to be the merchant for whom I had been searching, I greeted him and gave him peace. “Aish ism arrajol di?” (“What is the name of this man?”) he asked suspiciously of the chief of the convoy. “My name,” I exclaimed, “is Cecil Holcombe, an Englishman who desireth to travel to the Touat Oasis. The Director of Fate turned the bridle of my horse towards thee and allowed me to hear the bells of thy camels from afar; the Guide of
- 43. the Reins of Destiny moved my intention so that I came hither to meet thee. Behold! I bear unto thee a letter from our mutual friend, General Malezieux, Chief of Division.” The name of that high official caused him to open his keen dark eyes wider, and, taking the letter from me, he quickly read it. In Arabic my friend the General greeted his brother Ali Ben Hafiz with strings of salutations and references to the Prophet, and implored him to take under his protection the adventurous Englishman. When the old merchant had read it through twice, he slowly stroked his patriarchal beard. Then, looking up, he said in his own language— “M’sieur Holcombe, be welcome to our shade. Allah, the One Merciful, is mighty: Allah, Lord of the Three Worlds, is wise. He ordaineth that although thou art an unbeliever, we should nevertheless be companions. It giveth me pleasure to succour thee—but before all take salt with us.” The order was given to halt, a tent was quickly pitched, and we took salt and ate our kousskouss together, afterwards smoking our long haschish pipes until the noon was far spent. About five o’clock we resumed our journey again over the barren plain, the venerable-looking old Arab, in whom I found a most prayerful, pious, and entertaining host, riding by my side. The convoy of dark-faced Spahis, who, picturesque in their scarlet burnouses, had viewed me with such distrust, now regarded me as a distinguished guest, and were ready at every moment to do my bidding. To those who, like myself, have learned in the desert to regard life steadily, nothing temporal seems of moment when travelling by caravan, and our civilisation, of which we in Western Europe pride ourselves, seems but a frivolous thing of yesterday. Desert life to-day is the same as it was
- 44. ten centuries ago; the same as it will ever be. Free and charming in its simplicity, yet with certain terrors ever- present, it offers many attractions to those in search of change and excitement. Thus, with the fiery sunset flooding the boundless wilderness, we wended our way due westward in the blood-red track of the departing day. When the last rays were fading, another halt was made, the mats were spread, and Ali Ben Hafiz with his convoy and camel-drivers knelt, and, turning their faces towards Mecca, repeated their evening prayer, afterwards reciting with fervent devotion the Fâtiha: “Praise be to Allah, Lord of all creatures; the most merciful, King of the day of Judgment, Thee do we worship, and of Thee do we beg assistance. Direct us in the Right Way, in the way of those to whom Thou hast been gracious; not of those against whom Thou art incensed, nor of those who go astray.”
- 45. Then in the falling gloom we again moved on. Slowly our camels plodded, the rhythmic movement of their heads causing their bells to jingle, and now and then an Arab would chant a weird Bedouin song, or goad on his animals, administering heavy blows emphasised by sundry forcible imprecations with frequent references to Eblis. Old Ali—who was a native of Morocco and still acknowledged Mulai Hassan as his ruler, although he lived under the French flag—asked me to relate my history, and tell him of England and the Great White Queen; therefore, as we rode together, I entertained him with descriptions of my distant home, explaining to him our insular manners and customs, until the bright moon rose and the stars twinkled like diamonds in the cloudless vault of blue. At last, having entered a wild ravine, where some prickly acacias, dusty aloes, and patches of coarse hulfa grass grew, under the shadow of the rocks we encamped for the night. Our kousskouss was cooked and eaten, our horses fed and watered at the well, and while the Spahis were posted as sentinels to raise the alarm in the event of a raid by any of the fierce marauding bands that constantly prowl about that region, we wrapped ourselves in the ample folds of our burnouses and rested our weary heads upon our saddles.
- 46. Chapter Two. The Omen of the Camel’s Hoof. On over the barren sand-hills, always in the track of the setting sun, each day passed much as its predecessor. I was no stranger to Northern Africa, for the wild, free life, unshackled by conventionalities, had a fascination for me, and consequently I had accompanied caravans through Tunis and Tripoli, and had wandered a good deal in Morocco. In the course of these journeys I had learned to love the Arabs, and had formed the acquaintance of many powerful Sheikhs, several of whom I now counted among my most faithful and devoted friends. Indeed, it was to join one of them, the head of the Tédjéhé-N’ou-Sidi, that I was now on my way south to Zamlen, in the Afelèle region. After three years among the True Believers, I had at last overcome most of the difficulties of language, and could converse with them in their own tongue. It may have been this which commended itself to pious old Ali Ben Hafiz, for throughout our journey he was particularly gracious, though he bored me sometimes with his constant objurgatory remarks regarding Infidels in general and myself in particular. Once in exuberance of spirits I so far forgot myself as to whistle a popular English air, and although we were excellent friends, he reprimanded me so severely that I am not likely to forget that among the followers of the Prophet whistling is forbidden. One morning, while riding together soon after dawn, he surprised me by suddenly observing in a grave tone—
- 47. “Thou art young and of good stature. It surpriseth me that thou dost not return to thine own people and take a wife from among them.” “Why should I marry?” I asked, laughing. “While I am alone, I wander at my own inclination; if I married, my actions would be ruled by another.” “Because ere the sun had risen this morning a camel had placed its hoof upon thy spittle,” he answered, looking at me with his keen serious eyes that age had not dimmed. “It is an omen. ’Ty-ib bi’chire Allah yosallimak!” “An omen! Of what?” I asked. “Of impending evil.” “But we English believe not in superstition; neither have we witches nor sorcerers,” I replied, smiling. “Infidels have no need of them,” he retorted, angrily. “Only True Believers will behold the great lote tree, or quench their thirst at Salsabil, Allah be thanked!” “But this strange omen—what particular misfortune is it supposed to presage?” I inquired eagerly, astonished at the vehemence of his denunciation. “Hearken, and take heed,” he said, earnestly. “Thou art young, and as yet no woman hath captivated thee. Do I give utterance to the truth?” “Yes,” I answered. “As yet I have never been enmeshed.” “Then beware! There will be a day when thy life will be lightened by the rays of a woman’s face, rivalled only by the sun. Her eyes will be brilliant as the gazelle’s, her cheeks
- 48. will bear the bloom of the peach, and her lips will be sweet as the fresh-blown rose. In those eyes the love-light will flash, those cheeks will blush at thine approach, and those lips will meet with passion thy caress. Then remember the words of Ali Ben Hafiz. Remember the Omen of the Camel’s Hoof!” We rode on together in silence for some minutes. I was pondering over his strange words. “On the auspicious day when I meet this paragon of beauty which you prophesy, how am I to act?” I asked presently. “Act?” he cried. “Do nothing. Return not her caresses. Cast her from thee even though she be one of the houris of Paradise, and—” “Will she be a Moor, an Arab, or one of mine own people?” I inquired, interrupting him. “Ask me not. I am no prophet, though this is not the first time I have seen similar cases to thine. The Omen of the Camel’s Hoof hath been revealed—and it is fatal.” “Fatal?” I cried in alarm. “What dost thou mean? Am I to die?” “It resulteth in death—sometimes. It is always fatal to love.” “Have others succumbed, then?” I asked. “Yes, alas!” he said, with knit brows and a curiously thoughtful expression. “One case occurred in mine own family. My nephew, who was of about the same age as thou art, had the distinctive mark between the eyes, the same as thou hast upon thy countenance. After the last Fast of Ramadân, he took the caravan of his father and journeyed for one moon west to Duera, in Morocco. Before the sun had risen on the last day of Doul Hadja, the camel he was
- 49. riding, alas! stepped upon his spittle. His tent-man, a Biskri well versed in anthroposcopy, told him of the ominous warning, but he ridiculed it, saying that Kamra Fathma, the daughter of the cadi at Bona, was already betrothed unto him, and that he could never look with admiration upon another woman’s face. The Omen had been revealed; its warning was, alas! disregarded.” “What was the result?” I inquired, rather alarmed at my friend’s extraordinary prophetic demeanour. “Ah, the result? It was fatal! A week later he who scoffed at the humble tent-man’s words crossed the Figuig into the land of our lord the Sultan. There, at Sidi Mumen, he chanced to pass the daughter of the Basha on foot. An ill wind blew aside her veil, and he gazed for a second upon her uncovered face. The lines of her fatal beauty were in that instant graven deeply upon his heart, and he loved her violently, casting aside the pretty Kamra, his betrothed at Bona. Tarrying long near the woman who had fascinated him, he succeeded in earning the good graces of the Basha, and at length married her.” He paused, and, drawing a long breath, pulled his burnouse more tightly around his shoulders. “Well, if he succeeded in marrying her, the Omen of the Camel’s Hoof could not have been fatal to love,” I argued. “But it was!” he replied quickly. “After his marriage, he remained in Sidi Mumen, and set up a large house, and his wife had many slaves.” “Was he not happy?” “For three moons, and then—”
- 50. “And then?” “The prophecy was fulfilled. He took a cup of tea too much. (An expression used by the Moors, poison being invariably administered in tea.) The woman who had entranced him and obtained his money was verily a daughter of Eblis. She poisoned him!” “Horrible!” I said. “I hope mine will not be a similar fate.” The old man, who, before setting out on his journey, had without doubt promised a feast to his favourite marabout in return for the latter’s all-powerful prayers for his safety, shrugged his shoulders, but answered nothing.
- 51. Chapter Three. Entrapped. The curiously prophetic utterances of Ali Ben Hafiz caused me to reflect. I knew much of Moslem superstition,—in fact, I had collected many of the strange beliefs of the Arabs, Moors, and Koulouglis, with the intention of including them in a book I was writing,—but this extraordinary avant- coureur of evil was new to me. During the blazing day, as we toiled on over the sun-baked plain, again and again I recalled his ominous words. The prophecy made me feel uncomfortable. Somehow, try how I would, I could not rid myself of the thought that some untoward event would ere long occur. In this record of facts I am compelled to speak briefly of myself. Life had indeed been a strange series of ups and downs. Being left an orphan, I had early in life imbibed the reckless Bohemianism of the Quartier Latin, and my later years had been almost equally divided between the conventionalities of London and Paris and the wild, free life of the Bedouins of Northern Africa. Truth to tell, civilisation, with its hollow shams and its décolleté and frock-coated beau monde, had no charm for me. The leaden skies of London and the glitter and artificiality of Paris were alike hateful. I only enjoyed happiness when, attired in haick and slippers, I sat cross-legged with the people of Al-Islâm, studying their grave, interesting characteristics, and perfecting my knowledge of that most wonderful of languages, Arabic. Fettered no longer by the shackles of Society, I wandered, explored, and studied, the reason of this restlessness being
- 52. most likely due to the fact that I had never gazed upon a woman with thoughts of love. The Bohemianism of the Seine-bank had distorted my views of life, so that I regarded woman as a heartless coquette, and perhaps had become cynical, even misanthropic. Therefore, on thinking over old Ali’s warning, I grew at length to regard it as a mere superstition of the mystic Moslem, and succeeded at last in dismissing it from my mind. The blazing day wore on, and was succeeded by a glorious evening. We were in that wild, inhospitable region known as the Adjemor, about midway between the little Arab settlement of El Biodh and the palms of Aïn-el-Redjem. Away on the misty horizon the rising ground of the great plateau of Tademait was tinged with orange and gold, but as my fellow wanderers knelt upon their carpets, cast dust over their feet, and, salaaming, droned forth passages of the Saba in a monotone, the deep well of the west was still ablaze with crimson and silver. It was a bad sign, for the thin haze which hung upon the ground warned us that ere long we should be overwhelmed by one of the terrors of the desert—the sandstorm. Its stifling clouds of whirling sand might sweep down upon us immediately, or might not reach us for twelve or fourteen hours; but we were all aware that assuredly it must come, therefore, before throwing ourselves down to rest, we took necessary precautions to ensure our safety. Alone in my tent, I lay unable to sleep, for before the sirocco the heat always becomes unbearable. The dead silence of the wilderness was only broken by the champing of the camels and the jingle of the single Spahi, who, mounting guard over us, marched slowly up and down, his footsteps sounding muffled in the sand. Through the open door of the tent I could see how clear and bright was the night, how brilliantly the big moon of the East shone white
- 53. over the desert, and for a long time I lay thinking of home and of the strange words of Ali, until sleep at length came to my aching eyes. Loud shouting and rifle-shots rapidly exchanged awakened me. For a moment I was dazed by the weird, exciting scene. White-robed figures on horseback tearing past my tent were firing their long-barrelled guns, and our men were repelling the assault vigorously with their Winchesters. We were being attacked by a band of marauders; I knew it would be a fight to the death! Grasping my revolver, I sprang to my feet and rushed forth. As I did so, a gigantic Arab barred my passage. The fierce, dark-faced fellow had just swung himself from his horse, and in his sinewy hand there gleamed a long curved knife. In a second we had closed in deadly embrace. Clutching me by the throat, he forced me backwards, at the same moment uttering a curse and raising the keen blade above his head. For a second it was poised in mid air, but quick as thought I managed to wrench away my right hand, and, bringing it across my breast, fired my revolver full into his dark, sinister face. With a cry he staggered. The knife fell, but I evaded it, and, gradually loosening his hold upon my throat, he stumbled backwards, and, tottering, sank heavily to the ground. Leaving him, I rushed out to assist my companions, for the rattle of musketry was incessant, and bullets were singing about us in a manner that was particularly disconcerting. Dashing forward, I saw our Spahis had apparently been taken completely by surprise, four of them having fallen dead, and two were lying near, writhing under the agony of their wounds.
- 54. The shouting and firing were deafening, the flashing of guns shedding a lurid glare, while, to add to the horror of those moments, the storm had burst upon us, choking clouds of sand enveloping both enemy and friend. Once only, amid the whirling cloud of dust and smoke, I caught sight of the hospitable old merchant. Two of the robbers had seized him, and were securing his arms and legs with cords, when suddenly he turned upon them with the ferocity of a tiger, and, drawing a knife from his crimson sash, plunged it into the heart of one of his captors. The man staggered and fell backwards dead, like a stone. A second later there was a bright flash from a rifle fired by a man near me, and Ali Ben Hafiz, throwing up his arms with a cry, fell forward over the corpse of the man he had killed. Just at that moment I felt myself seized from behind. Turning quickly, intending to use my revolver, the weapon was snatched from my hand, and a cord with a noose passed quickly over my head. I fought hard; but how long can one fight against a score? The flash of the guns illumined for a second the faces of the fierce bandits into whose power I had unfortunately fallen. All were big, desperate-looking Bedouins of the tribe of the Ennitra, who live away south in the Ahaggar region, and whose men, reputed to be the worst of desperadoes, were the terror of the caravans. While they forced my hands behind me and secured them, my brave companions, the Spahis and camel-drivers, after making a most desperate resistance, were one after another shot down before my eyes. The band outnumbered us by six to one, and already the camels, with Ali’s valuable packs of textile fabrics, arms and ammunition, had been captured and driven off.
- 55. “Devils!” I cried, as I watched the sickening slaughter. “Why not complete thine hideous work and shoot me also?” “Behold! he hath a pale face!” cried one of my captors, peering into my eyes and showing his white teeth as he grinned viciously. “See! he is not an Arab! He is a dog of an Infidel!” “Kill him! kill him!” cried one of the others, excitedly brandishing a knife. “His touch will contaminate. The Roumi will bring the curse of Sajin upon us!” His words and threatening attitude alarmed me, for, remembering that these men were of the sect of the Aïssáwà, the wildest of the fanatics of Al-Islâm, I knew they were not likely to show much mercy to one who had not embraced their religion or gone through their hideous rites. Whoever Sidi ben Aïssa, the patron saint of this strange sect, might have been, he certainly numbers among his followers some of the worst malefactors of Algeria. Any Mohammedan may be initiated into the Aïssáwà. He makes a pilgrimage to Mequinez, in Morocco, calls upon the representative of Sidi ben Aïssa’s family, to whom he offers prayers and money. This over, the priest blows upon him, and the devotee arises and departs, firmly believing that however many venomous snakes may bite him, no harm will befall him.
- 56. Although in a frenzy of excitement over their terrible work of slaughter, they seemed in no mood to kill me. As the sandstorm abated, and dawn spread, the scene was awful. The whole of our men had, I saw, been ruthlessly massacred, and I alone remained the sole survivor. Breathlessly I stood, my arms bound so tightly as to cause me pain, awaiting my fate. How, I wondered, would it end? Presently, when the contents of our camels’ packs had been cursorily inspected, I was tied to a mule, and dragged on
- 57. over the desert in the direction of the rising sun. Through the long hot day I was forced to trudge wearily onward into that region of the Ahaggar where no Bedouins dare penetrate. Jeering, they refused my request for water to moisten my parched throat, and it was not until long after noon that they tossed me a handful of dates to satisfy my hunger. Just before sundown we came upon an oasis where the palms grew high, and there came out to meet us a dirty, ferocious rabble, shouting, gesticulating, and rejoicing that the raid had been successful. My captors were cheered again and again, while I, as an unbeliever, was cuffed and spat upon. Between two tall bronzed ruffians I was led straightway among the scattered tents to the Sheikh of the marauders, whom I afterwards learned was Hadj Absalam, the notorious outlaw upon whose head a price had long been set by the French Government. He was a sinister-looking old man, with a pair of black, gleaming eyes, a long grey beard, and an ugly cicatrix across his tawny forehead. As his name denoted, he had made the pilgrimage earlier in life, but the criminal was stamped in every line of his face, and I could quite believe him capable of the many barbarous cruelties attributed to him. The marauders explained how they had attacked and captured our caravan, and, finding that I was an Englishman, they had spared my life and brought me to him. The robber Sheikh of the Ennitra heard all without removing his long pipe from his lips or betraying the least excitement. Suddenly turning his piercing eyes upon me, he exclaimed—
- 58. “Thou art an unbeliever that Allah hath delivered into our hands for punishment. Verily, Allah hath cursed the Infidels, and hath prepared for them in Al-Hâwiyat a fierce fire wherein they shall remain for ever. They shall find no patron or defender. Death by the knife is too merciful an end for dogs of thy mongrel breed.” “But, my father,” I exclaimed, “I have not offended against thee. I am merely journeying here to study thy tongue.” “Silence, Infidel!” he roared. “Speak not to Allah’s chosen. Thine accursed body shall be racked by the torture ere thou goest unto the Kingdom of Shades.” Then, turning to the men who held me, he said, “Take him out among the rocks and let the punishment commence.” Heedless of my vigorous protests, I was hurried along, followed by the ragged crowd of excited fanatics, who still jeered and spat upon me, until we reached the edge of the oasis, which, as I afterwards learned, was named the Igharghar. It was die game, or die coward. I remembered the strange Omen of the Camel’s Hoof! At a spot where great grey rocks cropped out of the sand, my captors halted, and, forcing me to the ground, lashed me to the trunk of a date palm. The rope was passed under my arms and fastened to the base of the trunk, leaving about four feet of slack rope between my head and the tree. Then, my feet being bound, they drove a stake into the ground and tied them to it. Thus I lay stretched upon the ground, and, struggle as I would, I was unable to move. The cords sank into my flesh, and the crowd around me laughed and shouted when they saw my face distorted by pain.
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