“...The village was startled from sleep again by our return, and the crew were sleeping upon the deck; but in a few moments there was no more noise, and the junk was floating down in the moonlight, while its choicer freight was clouded in the azure mist of Latakiá, and heard only the sakias and the throbbing oars, and, at times, the wild, satanic rowing-song of the men, which Satan Saleh led with his diabolical quaver and cry….” [p.247]

“The moon rose and hung golden over Arabia, as the sad, monotonous song of the crew trembled and died away; and with its slow, measure throb the Howadji's hearts beat homeward.” [p.233]

“...The victim was put below, the crew rose from squatting on the shore and came aboard, and with plaintive songs and beating oars we drifted down the river once more, and watched the dim Theban mountains melt slowly away into invisibility.” [p.339]

“...A solitary phantom bark glides singing past––its sail as dark below as above, twin-winged in air and water. Whither, whither, ye ghostly mariners? Why so sad your singing? Why so languid-weary the slow plash of oars?” [p.350]
[Nile Notes of a Howadji, vol.I, Curtis, 1857]
George William Curtis (1824 – 1892)