Chapter II: Part 2

Our pet thermometer recorded 33° of frost last night. I take it some one has been playing football with it during the night. Moved our camp to Badia, which is on the northern face of the mountains, and in full view of the Red Sea, which looks quite close. Mount Sinai is plainly visible on the far shore. This was once an old Roman Station.[15] There are still very substantial remains of two old forts, each about one hundred yards square, built of large stones and burnt bricks; some of these latter we have used for building an oven. The ground is covered in all directions with pieces of old pottery, but we have failed to discover anything of value. Our tent seems to be pitched on an ancient burial ground, as there are deep holes all round, full of old human bones. Probably if one dug one would find a few old relics; as, so far, only an odd tomb or two have been dug into. The water here is good, but one has to crawl down a narrow hole and scoop it out with a cup to get any at all. Our last ibex meat is finished, so I hope another will be killed by one of us to-morrow.

BADIA,
_January 30th,_ 1891.

Eight degrees of frost last night; our tubs were very cold this morning. I was hardly warm enough with five rugs on my bed. Our flour will not last out, so we are sending off two camels to Kenneh to-morrow for more. They will take our letters for England. Our meat is all gone, so I was glad to see Powney returning to camp this evening with an ibex which he had got late in the afternoon. Whenever any of our people go to the wells in the mountains they always report having seen a few partridges there drinking. _I_ have been there frequently with my gun, but have never seen one. To-day I passed the well with a rifle, and, of course, there were three fat partridges there, as tame as chickens. I ran back for my gun. They certainly awaited my return; but directly they saw I had a gun they flew off! It is astonishing how birds can distinguish between a gun and a rifle, and know that the latter is harmless to them!! I remember, in Norway, when on the Fjeld with a rifle, the ryper used to potter about round us like chickens; but if we took up a gun for the purpose of shooting them, not one would show itself all day!

I made an excellent oven with some old Roman bricks, and we have made half a dozen loaves since morning. We move a day’s journey south to-morrow to the Wadi Kittar. Our present plans are to return to Kenneh by February 12th, and then leave for England, arriving in London February 23rd, _viâ_ Brindisi.

WADI KITTAR,
_January 31st,_ 1891.

Seven degrees of frost last night! I got up early and visited the well before breakfast, but the birds were not there. I paid it another visit just before the caravan started, but again failed to see them, so shot a small bird for skinning purposes. On our arrival here at about 3.30 P.M. we found some fresh spoor, so I immediately started off with the dogs. The tracks led us about two miles up the Wadi, and then up a mountain. We followed at our best pace, and presently saw an ibex climbing up ahead of us. The wind was wrong, and it had got our scent. After a stiff climb, we came to a place where neither dogs nor men could follow, so had to give up the hunt and return home. The sun was hot to-day.

WADI KITTAR,
_February 1st,_ 1891.

Spent an idle day in camp; skinned my little bird, and built an oven, which is now in full swing. This place is about 10° warmer than Badia.

WADI KITTAR,
_February 2nd,_ 1891.

Breakfast at dawn, and made an early start up the Wadi in an easterly direction. The valley forks at about three miles, the south fork leading to Medisa, the north leads into the Munfia mountains, and eventually curls south-east to the Kohila water. The wind was north, so we started up the latter ravine. After clambering over the rocks for two miles we picked up some fresh spoor, which took us down a branch ravine leading south-east. We soon started a beast, but it ran down a precipice, down wind, where we could not follow, so we had to give it up, and pursue our way again up the main ravine. We came to a large rock with water at the foot, so we had a good drink without exhausting our water-bottles. It was now about 11.30 A.M., so we climbed over the rock and kept on north-east up the ravine, which here became full of green plants and rushes, with, in one place, quite a jungle of rushes, tamarisks, moringa, &c. I also found a shrub just like our whitethorn, but the leaf seemed a little different.[16] I am bringing a slip of it home, besides lots of seeds which are found here.[17] We now came to a place where the gorge forked, and saw fresh spoor leading up the northern arm. The wind would have been wrong for following it, so we went on up the eastern arm, meaning eventually to curl round and gain the wind by striking into the first gorge, where we expected the ibex was, higher up. This we succeeded in doing, after a weary climb of over an hour, and eventually came upon two beasts. They, as usual, were hidden amongst the rocks, and saw us first. However, we were right for the wind, and the dogs soon got on the scent of one of them; the other made off down wind, and escaped. The dogs were now gaining on their beast, and, after a while, brought it to bay on the side of a steep mountain. We hurried on, and, after a long bit of climbing without boots, eventually found ourselves at the top of a precipice, with the ibex at bay beyond, 150 yards off, on the side of the next mountain. It was impossible to get any closer; and, as the ibex was standing tail towards me, I did not know exactly how to aim. The head was just visible over her back, so I resolved to have a shot at that. Though much out of breath, I took as careful an aim as possible, and fired. She (it afterwards proved to be a “she”) dropped like a stone; and I was congratulating myself on having made a good shot, when I saw her stagger to her legs again, and stand in exactly the same position as before. I had another shot at the back of her head, but saw the bullet hit a stone just past her cheek. This made her turn slightly, so I took advantage of a chance behind the shoulder, and bowled her over, this time stone dead. We found my first shot had gone an inch too high, cutting off one of the horns at the base, as clean as if done with a knife. This had stunned her for a moment. The third shot entered the top of the shoulder, and, passing through the lungs, had come out at the neck at the other side.

After we had taken off the skin and fed the dogs on titbits from the inside, the two Arabs proceeded to collect a large heap of firewood, and presently came to me for a match; as they, thinking an Englishman was never without his match box, had carelessly left their tinder boxes at home! Their jaws dropped several holes when I explained that I had none, and blank despair was written on their faces. However, by means of the sun, the object glass of my telescope, and a handful of dry pounded ibex droppings, we soon, much to their wonder and delight, had a blazing fire going, large enough to roast an ox. I waited to see what would happen next, wondering what they wanted the fire for. Presently they went to the dead ibex, and collected from its inside various nasty portions which they put into the fire, and mixed up with the embers. After three minutes or so they dug out the half-cooked offal, and proceeded to devour it, after first bringing me a piece of stuff like a cinder which I declined with thanks in my best Arabic. In five minutes their meal was over, and we started off home, arriving at dusk after a hard day.

WADI KITTAR,
_February 3rd,_ 1891.

The mystery of the War Office waterfall is solved! The map is right, but I was not wrong either, as there are two waterfalls, one as pretty as the other. The one I previously described is not mentioned in the description, nor marked on the map, so I claim to be the discoverer of it. I found the one marked on the map to-day, about six miles from here, up the arm of the ravine which I did not visit yesterday. Powney was going this way, stalking, so I went with him, intending to take some photographs at the head of the Wadi. Luckily, we suddenly came upon the cascade before I had used any of my plates. There is not so much water as in the Medisa fall, but the wall over which it flows is higher, probably about eighty feet, and the basin below is larger. But, on the other hand, there is only one, as against four at Medisa. The fall is covered with maidenhair fern, and a Syrian fig-tree spreads its branches over the pool.

About one hundred feet above the fall, and perched on a ledge of rock, is what Sir Gardner Wilkinson describes as an ancient church. He describes an inscription on it which I failed to find.[18] Having taken all my photographs and torn off a lump of fern, we set off home, and arrived hungry enough at 3 P.M. Powney returned at dark, having killed a “she” ibex. We are unlucky in having, so far, killed four “shes” out of five. But it can’t be helped, as we have no other source for getting meat.

To-morrow we shift camp to our original position at Medisa. Powney will go round the mountain with the caravan, and I shall re-visit the falls, walking thence across the mountains, about fourteen miles, till I meet him again at the camp in the evening.

MEDISA,
_February 4th,_ 1891.

Reached the “falls” in an hour and a half, after bidding goodbye to Kittar. We did not loiter there, but climbed on up the ravine in a southerly direction, till we reached the top of the “divide” between the Kittar and Medisa group of mountains. It was a very steep and tedious climb; and I thought we never should get to the top. But when we did, the view quite repaid us for our trouble. To the north east we could see the Red Sea, with Mount Sinai on the other side. It looked quite close, but was really nearly one hundred miles off. To the south we could see the desert stretching away right to the Nile. Having eaten our bread and cheese, we set off to clamber down the Medisa ravine. It was not by any means easy, and I parted with one of my soles about halfway down. However, we soon got down, and held our course along the gradually descending valley, till we reached the Medisa cascade, which is only three quarters of an hour from camp, which we reached at dusk, after a hard day. We saw no ibex, but several coveys of partridges. Powney had arrived with the camels and pitched camp on our old ground.

MEDISA,
_February 5th,_ 1891.

As Powney went out for ibex, I stayed about camp, and went for partridges to the water, but found nothing. Made a fresh oven. Powney saw no ibex.

MEDISA,
_February 6th,_ 1891.

Started early, and hunted the mountains in the direction of Kohila; but found the Wadi full of sheep instead of ibex. We made a mistake in leaving Kittar, as all the game seems to be there; it is quieter than the rest of the mountains. But we could not foresee that the Arabs would bring their sheep up here.[19] It was very hot and close all day, with a cloudy sky. The Arabs say we are in for a storm, so we have been putting out guy-ropes in all directions from the tent, and strengthening the pegs with rocks.

MEDISA,
_February 7th,_ 1891.

The Arabs were right, as a thunderstorm broke over us at bed-time last night. It lasted till this morning, and the lightning was very bright. We sat at our tent doors for a long time watching it playing around the mountains. The night was very hot and sultry, but there were only a few big drops of rain falling every now and again, and occasionally a heavy gust of wind. Rain is badly wanted here to fill up the wells, as there has been none for two years. The camels we sent to Kenneh on February 1st should be back by Monday with mails and provisions; but as there is no game here we have decided to leave to-morrow morning, and to meet the camels on their way here. We shall then be able to catch the steamer to Luxor on Friday 13th. We told our camel sheikh this evening, but he immediately began to raise objections, by saying we should miss the two camels from Kenneh, &c. This man has given us a lot of trouble all the way, though we have treated him very well. He is extremely greedy, and thinks we don’t know the road. However, we insisted, and ordered him to have the caravan ready by 7 A.M. This made him furious, and he said we might break his head before we should have the camels. His object is to delay us as long as possible, so as to get an extra day’s pay for the camel hire. We said nothing, and left him.

DESERT,
_February 8th,_ 1891.

The kurbatch[20] was produced at an early hour this morning, and had a magical effect on Salaama (the camel sheikh). All his threats of last night vanished, and he ran about after his camels and men, and got the caravan in order in the shortest time on record. Nothing like a little persuasion!

Our water-skins were frozen hard last night, and the necks had to be thawed before we could get water out. At about midday we made out our two returning camels in the far distance, much to our delight and Salaama’s disgust. I hope he feels what a fool he has been. I jumped off my camel and ran to meet them. The saddle-bags were emptied of their contents—oranges, bread, rice, jam, candles, eggs, and letters. We have now ample provision for the rest of the journey. We should have been hard up if we had not met our relief camels, as our commissariat department contained one dhurra loaf and one box of Cornish pilchards. Did twenty miles to-day.

KASR EL JINN,
_February 9th,_ 1891.

Twenty-miles done to-day in a march of nine hours, with half an hour for luncheon. My camel has a sore back.

BIR ARRAS,
_February 10th,_ 1891.

Twenty miles to-day to Bir Arras. The wells here have been dry for nearly two years, and we found no scrub for firewood. This was against dinner, but we met the difficulty by felling a telegraph pole and chopping it up. This telegraph line used to go from Kenneh to the petroleum wells on the Red Sea. But it is not now used, so the poles were handy for cooking our dinner.

KENNEH,
_February 11th,_ 1891.

Arrived here at midday, and pitched camp outside the town at a well in the Muhammadan cemetery, as I prefer that to the mosquitoes, fleas, &c., in the so-called hotel. Powney has decided to sleep at the latter place. We both dined at the hotel, and were delighted to get a bit of meat, as we had tasted none since Powney shot the two sand grouse at Medisa. We were lucky to-day in finding the owner of the camels, so we squared up our accounts with him. He is an old man, nearly blind now, poor old chap, but still has a keen eye for business. He was full of apologies for the behaviour of Salaama, and, for a wonder, did not haggle over his account, which was rather complicated and amounted to over £50.

GIRGEH,
_February 12th,_ 1891.

There was a wake going on all last night in my cemetery; beating of tomtoms and howling of women and dogs. I thought Powney must be having the best of it at the hotel, till I met him this morning, with his wrists as big as his legs from mosquito bites. I pitied him and said not a word about my disturbed night.

GIRGEH,
_February 12th,_ 1891.

Our plans are suddenly all altered. Powney has received a telegram offering him a staff appointment in India, so he will not be able to visit Luxor, but must return to London at once. As I do not care about going alone, I have decided to come home with him. Fortunately we found a steamer, an extra one, leaving for Assiout to-day, so we hurriedly packed up, and here we are in the river. We shall catch a steamer leaving Ismailia on the 7th, arriving in London on February 23rd.

_Extracts from “The Brigade of Guards’ Magazine,”
August_ 1891.

BRIGADE INTELLIGENCE.

* * * * *

The photograph we publish this month is that of Lieutenant H. E. Pretyman, late Grenadier Guards, whose death at Windsor, on 19th July, we all most sincerely deplore. Lieutenant Pretyman was the second son of the Rev. Fred. Pretyman, Rector of Great Carlton and Canon of Lincoln Cathedral. He joined the 2nd Battalion Grenadier Guards in March, 1885, awaiting the return of the 3rd Battalion from the Soudan, to which battalion he had been posted. His zealous attention and active performance of his duties soon attracted attention, while his Company highly appreciated his tact and good temper. A keen sportsman, he had journeyed during his leave to Lapland, in the north, and south to Egypt, in search of game. Unfortunately in 1889 he had a severe attack of typhoid fever, and since then of jaundice; and it is much feared that he had not completely recovered when he accepted the post of Camp Adjutant at Bisley, under Colonel Ricardo. He arrived at Bisley, on Thursday, 9th July, and although complaining of a slight cold it was not until Wednesday, 15th, that his temperature began to rise, and it was deemed advisable that he should give up his duties. Dr. Campbell lent him his house at Windsor, and there he was attended by Dr. Ellison, with whom Mr. Edgcombe Venning was associated in consultation, but all efforts failed, and he died on Sunday, 19th July. The cortège to Windsor Station was attended by nearly all the officers of the 2nd Battalion Scots Guards quartered there; while at the funeral, at his home in Lincolnshire, his Company and all the officers of the Battalion were present. Wreaths were sent from many friends, as well as the Officers and the Sergeants of his Battalion, and the Officers of the Coldstream and Scots Guards, by all of whom his early death is most deeply regretted.

* * * * *

IN MEMORIAM.

* * * * *

“Comrade, farewell,” those volleys seem to say,
That break the stillness of the summer air.
And, ’ere the last sad echoes die away,
Think what we lose in him who’s lying there.
Think what he was; then, weeping, cry, “Oh, may
We all be like him,” this should be our prayer.
A man consistent to his short life’s end,
Smart soldier, keenest sportsman, truest friend.

GEORGE COLBORNE NUGENT
_(Lieut. Grenadier Guards)_

[map]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: This railway was in charge of Mr. George Wadham Floyer, who died a few months later in his dahabia near Girgeh, aged 26. He was a younger brother of Mr. Ernest Ayscoghe Floyer, chief of the Telegraph Department in Egypt, a distinguished Oriental Scholar, who first explored the Kittar Mountains in 1886, and to whom I am indebted for the foot-notes in the accompanying pages.—F.P.]

[Footnote 2: A French railway contractor, a well-known figure on the Nile.]

[Footnote 3: Ficus Sycamorus—the sycamore fig. The once popular drive in the Shubra is lined for the most part with these trees.]

[Footnote 4: Artemisia.]

[Footnote 5: One of the hydreumata, or watering stations placed by the Ptolemies at frequent intervals along the numerous roads across this desert, which led to the quarries and gold and emerald mines, which were worked as late as the time of Trajan Hadrian, circa 147 A.D. At this period camels were not used but oxen and carts.]

[Footnote 6: Capparis spinosa; Arabic, lussuf.]

[Footnote 7: Small stone shelters are made near watering-places frequented by ibex. In these the Bedawin lie hid, and shoot.]

[Footnote 8: Fifty thousand gallons, an unusually large quantity. Much rain fell in the preceding season. This is the reservoir marked on the War Office map. That at which the party watered was dry when the map was made, and the pool is not marked. Great caution is used before marking “water” on a desert map.]

[Footnote 9: Necessary with a young camel, and not so painful as it seems.]

[Footnote 10: “Yessar” is the Arabic name for the _moringa aptera_ mentioned later on.]

[Footnote 11: These aneroid heights may be taken as correct.]

[Footnote 12: Herr Lepsius, commanding the German Expedition of 1842-45 was the first, in modern days, to cross this pass or “Nojeb.” His party were lost in these mountains, and of this pass in particular he speaks in almost horror. He unloaded the camels, and his men carried the loads to the bottom.]

[Footnote 13: Oïridh, “devils”; Hindustani, latūr; Arabic, sheitan. These are in the desert what waterspouts are in the sea, and might be called sandspouts were not “spout” indescriptive of the appearance in either case.

The phenomenon is produced as follows:—A whirlwind arises at perhaps a height of five hundred feet. Its vortex decreases in diameter downwards until, on the desert surface, it is perhaps two or three feet in diameter, whirling round with great velocity, and with an upward spiral. When it passes over loose sand it carries with it all movable particles. The whole thing, like a whipping top in form, rises and falls and moves about. When it rises, and only the point of the whipping top rests on the surface, the circular motion is harmless. It sometimes goes up into the air and, when the circular motion is interrupted, drops sand and small bushes over a large area. When depressed, and when the diameter of the whirlwind reaches twenty or thirty feet, it has great force, and a camel will lie down, blinded, and fearing to be blown over. These “devils” march or dance about the desert in parties often of ten or twelve, and look like weird giants on a sultry gloomy evening. The effect is heightened by the dead stillness outside the radius of gyration. They have been the subject of highly-coloured description by travellers, and the statement in the text is characteristically simple.]

[Footnote 14: There are three kinds of partridge in this desert. The most interesting, hitherto shot near Assuan only by Colonel Harkness, is the Amnoperdrix Heysii, a richly coloured bird with a tuft or pencil of white feathers behind each ear.]

[Footnote 15: The Imperial porphyry, the Rosso Antico, is quarried here. It was said of the legitimate descendants of the Roman emperors that they were “porphyrogeniti,” or born in the purple, meaning that they were born in a chamber lined with this stone, to which chamber access was permitted only to the Emperor’s rightful wife. The quarries, after lying idle for 1700 years, are now worked by Mr. Brindley of London.]

[Footnote 16: Lycium, sp.?]

[Footnote 17: The seeds were raised at Great Carlton, and some of the young plants transferred to the Royal Gardens, Kew. Among them—Moringa aptera, Cassia obovata (the senna of commerce), Capparis spinosa, Zygophyllum album. Before mineral oils were introduced the oil of Ben, produced from the moringa aptera, was used by watchmakers.]

[Footnote 18: The inscription has not been seen since Sir Gardner Wilkinson’s visit. The text is given, in translation, in a paper on the Eastern Desert Proc. R. G. S., November, 1887. The original Greek is in Proc. R. G. S.]

[Footnote 19: These mountains support several hundred sheep and many half-wild donkeys. The wild ass is still found to the south. The sheep feed on the leaves of the acacias, which are shaken down for them by the shepherds, who use long hooks to shake the branches. The sheep are thus entirely dependent on the shepherd for food, and follow him eagerly the moment they see him take up his hook.]

[Footnote 20: The kurbatch is a long tapering strip cut from the hide of a hippopotamus. It is hard, but flexible, like stiff indiarubber.]

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE

footnote 17 (pg 38) Changed: Zygophpllum to: Zygophyllum

footnote 19 (pg 43) Changed: his kook to: hook