Chapter 8: et passim), give specimens (8)

For three hours we travelled in a south-easterly direction upon a hard plain and a sandy flat, on which several waters from the highlands find a passage to the sea westward. Gradually we were siding towards the mountains, and at sunset I observed that we had sensibly neared them. We dismounted for a short halt; and, strangers being present, my companions, before sitting down to smoke, said their prayers-a pious exercise in which they did not engage for three days afterwards, when they met certain acquaintances at Al-Hamra. As evening came on, we emerged from a scrub of Acacia and Tamarisk and turned due East, traversing an open country with a perceptible rise. Scarcely was it dark before the cry of "Harami" (thieves) rose loud in the rear, causing such confusion as one may see in a boat in the Bay of Naples when suddenly neared by a water-spout

[p.250] All the camel-men brandished their huge staves, and rushed back vociferating in the direction of the robbers. They were followed by the horsemen; and truly, had the thieves possessed the usual acuteness of the profession, they might have driven off the camels in our van with safety and convenience.[FN#14] But these contemptible beings were only half a dozen in number, and they had lighted their matchlocks, which drew a bullet or two in their direction. Whereupon they ran away. This incident aroused no inconsiderable excitement, for it seemed ominous of worse things about to happen to us when entangled in the hills, and the faces of my companions, perfect barometers of fair and foul tidings, fell to zero. For nine hours we journeyed through a brilliant moonlight, and as the first grey streak appeared in the Eastern sky we entered a scanty "Misyal,[FN#15]" or Fiumara, strewed with pebbles and rounded stones, about half a mile in breadth, and flanked by almost perpendicular hills of primitive formation. I began by asking the names of peaks and other remarkable spots, when I found that a folio volume would not contain a three months' collection[FN#16]: every hill and dale, flat, valley, and

[p.251] water-course here has its proper name or rather names. The ingenuity shown by the Badawin in distinguishing between localities the most similar, is the result of a high organization of the perceptive faculties, perfected by the practice of observing a recurrence of landscape features few in number and varying but little amongst themselves. After travelling two hours up this torrent bed, winding in an Easterly direction, and crossing some "Harrah," or ridges of rock, "Ria," steep descents,[FN#17] "Kitaah," patch of stony flat, and bits of "Sahil," dwarf plain, we found ourselves about eight A.M., after a march of about thirty-four miles, at Bir Sa'id (Sa'id's Well), our destination.

I had been led to expect at the "Well," a pastoral scene, wild flowers, flocks and flowing waters; so I looked with a jaundiced eye upon a deep hole full of slightly brackish water dug in a tamped hollow-a kind of punch-bowl with granite walls, upon whose grim surface a few thorns of exceeding hardihood braved the sun for a season. Not a house was in sight-it was as barren and desolate a spot as the sun ever "viewed in his wide career." But this is what the Arabian traveller must expect. He is to traverse, for instance, the Wady Al-Ward-the Vale of Flowers. He indulges in sweet recollections of Indian lakes beautiful with the Lotus, and Persian plains upon which Narcissus is the meanest of grasses. He sees a plain like swish-work, where knobs of granite act daisies; and where, at every fifty yards, some hapless bud or blossom is dying of inanition among the stones.

The sun scorched our feet as we planted the tent, and, after drinking our breakfast, we passed the usual day of perspiration and semi-lethargy. In discomfort man naturally

[p.252] hails a change, even though it be one from bad to worse. When our enemy began slanting towards the West, we felt ready enough to proceed on our journey. The camels were laden shortly after 3 P.M., July 20th, and we started, with water jars in our hands, through a storm of Samun.

We travelled five hours in a North-Easterly course up a diagonal valley,[FN#18] through a country fantastic in its desolation-a mass of huge hills, barren plains, and desert vales. Even the sturdy Acacias here failed, and in some places the camel grass could not find earth enough for its root. The road wound among mountains, rocks and hills of granite, and over broken ground, flanked by huge blocks and boulders piled up as if man's art had aided Nature to disfigure herself. Vast clefts seamed like scars the hideous face of earth; here they widened into dark caves, there they were choked with glistening drift sand. Not a bird or a beast was to be seen or heard; their presence would have argued the vicinity of water; and, though my companions opined that Badawin were lurking among the rocks, I decided that these Badawin were the creatures of their fears. Above, a sky like polished blue steel, with a tremendous blaze of yellow light, glared upon us without the thinnest veil of mist cloud. Below, the brass-coloured circle scorched the face and dazzled the eyes, mocking them the while with offers of water that was but air. The distant prospect was more attractive than the near view, because it borrowed a bright azure tinge from the intervening atmosphere; but the jagged peaks and the perpendicular streaks of shadow down the flanks of the mountainous background

[p.253] showed that yet in store for us was no change for the better.

Between 10 and 11 P.M., we reached human habitations-a phenomenon unseen since we left Al-Musahhal-in the shape of a long straggling village. It is called Al-Hamra, from the redness of the sands near which it is built, or Al-Wasitah, the "half-way," because it is the middle station between Yambu' and Al-Madinah. It is therefore considerably out of place in Burckhardt's map; and those who copy from him make it much nearer the sea-port than it really is. We wandered nearly an hour in search of an encamping station, for the surly villagers ordered us off every flatter bit of ground, without, however, deigning to show us where our jaded beasts might rest. At last, after long wrangling, we found the usual spot; the camels were unloaded, the boxes and baggage were disposed in a circle for greater security against the petty pilferers in which this part of the road abounds, and my companions spread their rugs so as to sleep upon their valuables. I was invited to follow the general example; but I absolutely declined the vicinity of so many steaming and snoring fellow-travellers. Some wonder was excited by the Afghan Haji's obstinacy and recklessness; but resistance to these people is sometimes bien place, and a man from Kabul is allowed to say and to do strange things. In answer to their warnings of nightly peril, I placed a drawn sword by my side[FN#19] and a cocked pistol under my pillow, the saddle-bag: a carpet spread upon the cool loose sand formed by no means an uncomfortable couch, and upon it I enjoyed a sound sleep till day-break.

Rising at dawn (July 21), I proceeded to visit the village. It is built upon a narrow shelf at the top of a precipitous hill to the North, and on the South runs a sandy

[p.254] Fiumara about half a mile broad. On all sides are rocks and mountains rough and stony; so you find yourself in another of those punch-bowls which the Arabs seem to consider choice sites for settlements.[FN#20] The Fiumara, hereabouts very winding, threads the high grounds all the way down from the plateau of Al-Madinah: during the rainy season it becomes a raging torrent, carrying westwards to the Red Sea the drainage of a hundred hills. Water of good quality is readily found in it by digging a few feet below the surface at the angles where the stream forms the deepest hollows, and in some places the stony sides give out bubbling springs.[FN#21]

Al-Hamra itself is a collection of stunted houses or rather hovels, made of unbaked brick and mud, roofed over with palm leaves, and pierced with air-holes, which occasionally boast a bit of plank for a shutter. It appears thickly populated in the parts where the walls are standing, but, like all settlements in the Holy Land, Al-Hijaz,[FN#23] it abounds in ruins. It is well supplied with provisions, which are here cheaper than at Al-Madinah,-a circumstance that induced Sa'ad the Demon to overload his hapless camel with a sack of wheat. In the village are a few shops where grain, huge plantains, ready-made bread, rice,

[p.255] clarified butter, and other edibles are to be purchased. Palm orchards of considerable extent supply it with dates. The bazar is, like the generality of such places in the villages of Eastern Arabia, a long lane, here covered with matting, there open to the sun, and the narrow streets-if they may be so called-are full of dust and glare. Near the encamping ground of caravans is a fort for the officer commanding a troop of Albanian cavalry, whose duty it is to defend the village,[FN#24] to hold the country, and to escort merchant travellers. The building consists of an outer wall of hewn stone, loopholed for musketry, and surmounted by "Shararif," "remparts coquets," about as useful against artillery as the sugar gallery round a Twelfth-cake. Nothing would be easier than to take the place: a false attack would draw off the attention of the defenders, who in these latitudes know nothing of sentry-duty, whilst scaling-ladders or a bag full of powder would command a ready entrance into the other side. Around the Al-Hamra fort are clusters of palm-leaf huts, where the soldiery lounge and smoke, and near it is the usual coffee-house, a shed kept by an Albanian. These places are frequented probably on account of the intense heat inside the fort. We passed a comfortless day at the "Red Village." Large flocks of sheep and goats were being driven in and out of the place, but their surly shepherds would give no milk, even in exchange for bread and meat. The morning was spent in watching certain Badawin, who, matchlock in hand, had climbed the hills in pursuit of a troop of cranes: not one bird was hit of the many fired at-a circumstance which did not say much for their vaunted marksmanship. Before breakfast I bought a moderately sized sheep for a dollar.

[p.256] Shaykh Hamid "halaled[FN#25]" (butchered) it, according to rule, and my companions soon prepared a feast of boiled mutton. But that sheep proved a "bone of contention." The boy Mohammed had, in a fit of economy, sold its head to a Badawi for three piastres, and the others, disappointed in their anticipations of "haggis," lost temper. With the "Demon's" voluble tongue and impudent countenance in the van, they opened such a volley of raillery and sarcasm upon the young "tripe-seller," that he in his turn became excited-furious. I had some difficulty to keep the peace, for it did not suit my interests that they should quarrel. But to do the Arabs justice, nothing is easier for a man who knows them than to work upon their good feelings. "He is a stranger in your country-a guest!" acted as a charm; they listened patiently to Mohammed's gross abuse, only promising to answer him when in his land, that is to say, near Meccah. But what especially soured our day was the report that Sa'ad, the great robber-chief, and his brother were in the field; consequently that our march would be delayed for some time: every half-hour some fresh tattle from the camp or the coffee-house added fuel to the fire of our impatience.

A few particulars about this Schinderhans of Al-Hijaz[FN#26] may not be unacceptable. He is the chief of the Sumaydah and the Mahamid, two influential sub-families of the Hamidah, the principal family of the Beni-Harb tribe of Badawin. He therefore aspired to rule all the Hamidah, and through them the Beni-Harb, in which case he would have been, de facto, monarch of the Holy Land. But the Sharif of Meccah, and Ahmad Pasha,

[p.257] the Turkish governor of the chief city, for some political reason degraded him, and raised up a rival in the person of Shaykh Fahd, another ruffian of a similar stamp, who calls himself chief of the Beni-Amr, the third sub-family of the Hamidah family. Hence all kinds of confusion. Sa'ad's people, who number it is said 5000, resent, with Arab asperity, the insult offered to their chief, and beat Fahd's, who do not amount to 800. Fahd, supported by the government, cuts off Sa'ad's supplies. Both are equally wild and reckless, and-nowhere doth the glorious goddess, Liberty, show a more brazen face than in this Eastern

"Inviolate land of the brave and the free;"

both seize the opportunity of shooting troopers, of plundering travellers, and of closing the roads. This state of things continued till I left the Hijaz, when the Sharif of Meccah proposed, it was said, to take the field in person against the arch-robber. And, as will afterwards be seen in these pages, Sa'ad, had the audacity to turn back the Sultan's Mahmil or litter-the ensign of Imperial power-and to shut the road against its cortege, because the Pashas of Al-Madinah and of the Damascus caravan would not guarantee his restitution to his former dignity. That such vermin is allowed to exist proves the imbecility of the Turkish government. The Sultan pays pensions in corn and cloth to the very chiefs who arm their varlets against him; and the Pashas, after purloining all they can, hand over to their enemies the means of resistance. It is more than probable, that Abd al-Majid has never heard a word of truth concerning Al-Hijaz, and that fulsome courtiers persuade him that men there tremble at his name. His government, however, is desirous, if report speaks truth, of thrusting Al-Hijaz upon the Egyptian, who on his side would willingly pay a large sum to avert such calamity. The Holy Land drains off Turkish gold and blood in abundance, and the

[p.258] lords of the country hold in it a contemptible position. If they catch a thief, they dare not hang him. They must pay black-mail, and yet be shot at in every pass. They affect superiority over the Arabs, hate them, and are despised by them. Such in Al-Hijaz are the effects of the charter of Gulkhanah, a panacea, like Holloway's Pills, for all the evils to which Turkish, Arab, Syrian, Greek, Egyptian, Persian, Armenian, Kurd, and Albanian flesh is heir to. Such the results of the Tanzimat, the silliest copy of Europe's folly-bureaucracy and centralisation-that the pen of empirical statecraft ever traced.[FN#27] Under a strong-handed and strong-hearted despotism, like Mohammed Ali's, Al-Hijaz, in one generation, might be purged of its pests. By a proper use of the blood feud; by vigorously supporting the weaker against the stronger classes; by regularly defeating every Badawi who earns a name for himself; and, above all, by the exercise of unsparing, unflinching justice,[FN#28] the few thousands of half-naked bandits, who now make the land a fighting field, would soon sink into utter insignificance.

[p.259] But to effect such end, the Turks require the old stratocracy, which, bloody as it was, worked with far less misery than the charter and the new code. What Milton calls

"The solid rule of civil government"

has done wonders for the race that nurtured and brought to perfection an idea spontaneous to their organisation. The world has yet to learn that the admirable exotic will thrive amongst the country gentlemen of Monomotapa or the ragged nobility of Al-Hijaz.[FN#29] And it requires no prophetic eye to foresee the day when the Wahhabis or the Badawin, rising en masse, will rid the land of its feeble conquerors.[FN#30]

Sa'ad, the Old Man of the Mountains, was described to me as a little brown Badawi; contemptible in appearance, but remarkable for courage and ready wit. He has for treachery a keen scent, which he requires to keep in exercise. A blood feud with Abd al-Muttalib, the present Sharif of Meccah, who slew his nephew, and the hostility of several Sultans, has rendered his life eventful. He lost all his teeth by poison, which would have killed him, had he not, after swallowing the potion, corrected it by drinking off a large potfull of clarified butter. Since that time he has lived entirely upon fruits, which he gathers for himself, and

[p.260] coffee which he prepares with his own hands. In Sultan Mahmud's time he received from Constantinople a gorgeous purse, which he was told to open, as it contained something for his private inspection. Suspecting treachery, he gave it for this purpose to a slave, bidding him carry it to some distance; the bearer was shot by a pistol cunningly fixed, like Rob Roy's, in the folds of the bag. Whether this far-known story be "true or only well found," it is certain that Shaykh Sa'ad now fears the Turks, even "when they bring gifts." The Sultan sends, or is supposed to send him, presents of fine horses, robes of honour, and a large quantity of grain. But the Shaykh, trusting to his hills rather than to steeds, sells them; he gives away the dresses to his slaves, and he distributes the grain amongst his clansmen. Of his character, men, as usual, tell two tales: some praise his charity, and call him the friend of the poor, as certainly as he is a foe to the rich. Others, on the contrary, describe him as cruel, cold-blooded, and notably, even among Arabs, revengeful and avaricious. The truth probably lies between these two extremes, but I observed that those of my companions who spoke most highly of the robber chief when at a distance seemed to be in the sudori freddi whilst under the shadow of his hills.

Al-Hamra is the third station from Al-Madinah in the Darb Sultani, the "Sultan's" or "High Road," the Westerly line leading to Meccah along the sea-coast. When the robbers permit, the pilgrims prefer this route on account of its superior climate, the facility of procuring water and supplies, the vicinity of the sea, and the circumstance of its passing through "Badr," the scene of the Prophet's principal military exploits (A.H. 2). After mid-day, on the 21st July, when we had made up our minds that Fate had determined we should halt at Al-Hamra, a caravan arrived from Meccah; and the new travellers had interest to procure an escort, and permission

[p.261] to proceed without delay towards Al-Madinah. The good news filled us with joy. A little after four P.M. we urged our panting camels over the fiery sands to join the Meccans, who were standing ready for the march, on the other side of the torrent bed. An hour afterwards we started in an Easterly direction.

My companions having found friends and relations in the Meccan caravan,-the boy Mohammed's elder brother, about whom more anon, was of the number,-were full of news and excitement. At sunset they prayed with unction: even Sa'ad and Hamid had not the face to sit their camels during the halt, when all around were washing, sanding themselves,[FN#31] and busy with their devotions. We then ate our suppers, remounted, and started once more. Shortly after night set in, we came to a sudden halt. A dozen different reports rose to account for this circumstance, which was occasioned by a band of Badawin, who had manned a gorge, and sent forward a "parliamentary," ordering us forthwith to stop. They at first demanded money to let us pass; but at last, hearing that we were Sons of the Holy Cities, they granted us transit on the sole condition that the military,-whom they, like Irish peasants, hate and fear,-should return to whence they came. Upon this, our escort, 200 men, wheeled their horses round and galloped back to their barracks. We moved onwards, without, however, seeing any robbers; my camel-man pointed out their haunts, and showed me a small bird hovering over a place where he supposed water trickled from the rock. The fellow had attempted a sneer at my expense when the fray was impending. "Why don't you load your pistols, Effendi,"

[p.262] he cried, "and get out of your litter, and show fight?" "Because," I replied as loudly, "in my country, when dogs run at us, we thrash them with sticks." This stopped Mansur's mouth for a time, but he and I were never friends. Like the lowest orders of Orientals, he required to be ill-treated; gentleness and condescension he seemed to consider a proof of cowardice or of imbecility. I began with kindness, but was soon compelled to use hard words at first, and then threats, which, though he heard them with frowns and mutterings, produced manifest symptoms of improvement.

"Oignez vilain, il vous poindra! Poignez vilain, il vous oindra!"

says the old French proverb, and the axiom is more valuable in the East even than in the West.

Our night's journey had no other incident. We travelled over rising ground with the moon full in our faces; and, about midnight, we passed through another long straggling line of villages, called Jadaydah,[FN#32] or Al-Khayf.[FN#33] The principal part of it lies on the left of the road going to Al-Madinah; it has a fort like that of Al-Hamra, springs of tolerable drinking water, a Nakhil or date-ground, and a celebrated (dead) saint, Abd al-Rahim al-Burai. A little beyond it lies the Bughaz[FN#34] or defile, where in A.D. 1811 Tussun Bey and his 8000 Turks were totally defeated by 25,000 Harbi Badawin and Wahhabis.[FN#35]

[p.263] This is a famous attacking-point of the Beni-Harb. In former times both Jazzar Pasha, the celebrated "butcher" of Syria, and Abdullah Pasha of Damascus, were baffled at the gorge of Jadaydah[FN#36]; and this year the commander of the Syrian caravan, afraid of risking an attack at a place so ill-omened, avoided it by marching upon Meccah via the Desert road of Nijd. At four A.M., having travelled about twenty-four miles due East, we encamped at Bir Abbas.

[FN#1] Alluding to the celebrated mountain, the "Hindu-kush," whence the Afghans sallied forth to lay waste India. [FN#2] Throughout this work I have estimated the pace of a Hijazi camel, laden and walking in caravan line, under ordinary circumstances, at two geographical miles an hour. A sandy plain or a rocky pass might make a difference of half a mile each way, but not more. [FN#3] See Chap. VIII., page 152, note 1, ante. [FN#4] The reader must be warned that these little villages in Arabia, as in Sind and Baluchistan, are continually changing their names, whilst the larger settlements always retain the same. The traveller, too, must beware of writing down the first answer he receives; in one of our maps a village on the Euphrates is gravely named "M'adri," ("Don't know"). [FN#5] Here called Samn, the Indian ghee. [FN#6] The "Kahk" in this country is a light and pleasant bread made of ground wheat, kneaded with milk, leavened with sour bean flour, and finally baked in an oven, not, as usual, in the East, upon an iron plate. The Kahk of Egypt is a kind of cake. [FN#7] Stale unleavened bread is much relished by Easterns, who say that keeping it on journeys makes it sweet. To prevent its becoming mouldy, they cut it up into little bits, and, at the risk of hardening it to the consistence of wood, they dry it by exposure to the air. [FN#8] This Akit has different names in all parts of Arabia; even in Al-Hijaz it is known by the name of Mazir, as well as, "Igt," (the corruption of Akit). When very sour, it is called "Saribah," and when dried, without boiling, "Jamidah." The Arabs make it by evaporating the serous part of the milk; the remainder is then formed into cakes or lumps with the hand, and spread upon hair cloth to dry. They eat it with clarified butter, and drink it melted in water. It is considered a cooling and refreshing beverage, but boasts few attractions to the stranger. The Baluchis and wild tribes of Sindians call this preparation of milk "Krut," and make it in the same way as the Badawin do. [FN#9] In Arabic and Hebrew, milk; the Maltese give the word a very different signification, and the Egyptians, like the Syrians, confine their use of it to sour milk or curds-calling sweet milk "laban halib," or simply "halib." [FN#10] In a previous work (History of Sind), I have remarked that there exists some curious similarity in language and customs between the Arabs and the various races occupying the broad ranges of hills that separate India from Persia. Amongst these must be numbered the prejudice alluded to above. The lamented Dr. Stocks, of Bombay, who travelled amongst and observed the Brahui and the Baluchi nomads in the Pashin valley, informed me that, though they will give milk in exchange for other commodities, yet they consider it a disgrace to make money by it. This, methinks, is too conventional a point of honour to have sprung up spontaneously in two countries so distant, and apparently so unconnected. [FN#11] At Aden, as well as in Sind, these dry storms abound, and there the work of meteorological investigation would be easier than in Al-Hijaz. [FN#12] "Beni-Kalb," (or Juhaynah, Chap. X.), would mean the "Dogs'-Sons"-"Beni-Harb," the "Sons of Fight." [FN#13] The Shintiyan is the common sword-blade of the Badawin; in Western Arabia, it is called Majar (from the Magyars?), and is said to be of German manufacture. Good old weapons of the proper curve, marked like Andrew Ferraras with a certain number of lines down their length, will fetch, even in Arabia, from L7 to L8. The modern and cheap ones cost about 10s. Excellent weapons abound in this country, the reason being that there is a perpetual demand for them, and when once purchased, they become heir-looms in the family. I have heard that when the Beni Bu Ali tribe, near Ras al-Khaymah, was defeated with slaughter by Sir Lionel Smith's expedition, the victors found many valuable old European blades in the hands of the slain. [FN#14] The way of carrying off a camel in this country is to loosen him, and then to hang on heavily to his tail, which causes him to start at full gallop. [FN#15] The Arabic Misyal, Masyal, Masil, or Masilah, is the Indian Nullah and the Sicilian "Fiumara," a hill water-course, which rolls a torrent during and after rain, and is either partially or wholly dry at other seasons,-the stream flowing slowly underground. In England we want the feature, and therefore there is no single word to express it. Our "River" is an imperfect way of conveying the idea. [FN#16] Generalisation is not the forte of the Arabic language. "Al-Kulzum" (the Red Sea), for instance, will be unintelligible to the native of Jeddah; call it the Sea of Jeddah, and you at once explain yourself; so the Badawin will have names for each separate part, but no single one to express the whole. This might be explained by their ignorance of anything but details. The same thing is observable, however, in the writings of the Arabian geographers when they come to treat of the objects near home.

[FN#17] About the classic "Harrah," I shall have more to say at a future time. The word "Ria" in literary and in vulgar Arabic is almost synonymous with Akabah, a steep descent, a path between hills or a mountain road. [FN#18] Valleys may be divided into three kinds. 1. Longitudinal, i.e. parallel to the axis of their ridges; 2. Transversal or perpendicular to the same; and, 3. Diagonal, which form an acute or an obtuse angle with the main chain of mountains. [FN#19] This act, by the bye, I afterwards learned to be a greater act of imprudence than the sleeping alone. Nothing renders the Arab thief so active as the chance of stealing a good weapon. [FN#20] Probably, because water is usually found in such places. In the wild parts of the country, wells are generally protected by some fortified building, for men consider themselves safe from an enemy until their supply of water is cut off. [FN#22] Near Al-Hamra, at the base of the Southern hills, within fire of the forts, there is a fine spring of sweet water. All such fountains are much prized by the people, who call them "Rock-water," and attribute to them tonic and digestive virtues. [FN#23] As far as I could discover, the reason of the ruinous state of the country at present is the effect of the old Wahhabi and Egyptian wars in the early part of the present century, and the misrule of the Turks. In Arabia the depopulation of a village or a district is not to be remedied, as in other countries, by an influx of strangers; the land still belongs to the survivors of the tribe, and trespass would be visited with a bloody revenge. [FN#24] Without these forts the Turks, at least so said my companions, could never hold the country against the Badawin. There is a little amour propre in the assertion, but upon the whole it is true. There are no Mohammed Alis, Jazzars, and Ibrahim Pachas in these days. [FN#25] To "halal" is to kill an animal according to Moslem rites: a word is wanted to express the act, and we cannot do better than to borrow it from the people to whom the practice belongs. [FN#26] He is now dead, and has been succeeded by a son worse than himself. [FN#27] The greatest of all its errors was that of appointing to the provinces, instead of the single Pasha of the olden time, three different governors, civil, military, and fiscal, all depending upon the supreme council at Constantinople. Thus each province has three plunderers instead of one, and its affairs are referred to a body that can take no interest in it. [FN#28] Ziyad bin Abihi was sent by Al-Mu'awiyah, the Caliph, to reform Al-Basrah, a den of thieves; he made a speech, noticed that he meant to rule with the sword, and advised all offenders to leave the city. The inhabitants were forbidden under pain of death to appear in the streets after evening prayers, and dispositions were made to secure the execution of the penalty. Two hundred persons were put to death by the patrol during the first night, only five during the second, and not a drop of blood was shed afterwards. By similar severity, the French put an end to assassination at Naples, and the Austrians at Leghorn. We may deplore the necessity of having recourse to such means, but it is a silly practice to salve the wound which requires the knife. [FN#29] These remarks were written in 1853: I see no reason to change them in 1878. [FN#30] A weak monarch, a degenerate government, a state whose corruption is evidenced by moral decay, a revenue bolstered up by a system of treasury paper, which even the public offices discount at from three to six per cent., an army accustomed to be beaten, and disorganised provinces; these, together with the proceedings of a ruthless and advancing enemy, form the points of comparison between the Constantinople of the present day and the Byzantine metropolis eight hundred years ago. Fate has marked upon the Ottoman Empire in Europe "delenda est": we are now witnessing the efforts of human energy and ingenuity to avert or to evade the fiat. [FN#31] When water cannot be obtained for ablution before prayers, Moslems clap the palms of their hands upon the sand, and draw them down the face and both fore-arms. This operation, which is performed once or twice-it varies in different schools-is called Tayammum. [FN#32] I write this word as my companions pronounced it. Burckhardt similarly gives it "Djedeyde," and Ali Bey "Djideïda." Giovanni Finati wrongly calls the place "Jedeed Bughaz," which Mr. Bankes, his editor, rightly translates the "new opening or pass." [FN#33] Al-Khayf is a common name for places in this part of Arabia. The word literally means a declivity or a place built upon a declivity. [FN#34] Bughaz means in Turkish the fauces, the throat, and signifies also here a gorge, or a mountain pass. It is the word now commonly used in Al-Hijaz for the classical "Nakb," or "Mazik." Vincent (Periplus) errs in deriving the word from the Italian "Bocca." [FN#35] Giovanni Finati, who was present at this hard-fought field as a soldier in Tussun's army, gives a lively description of the disastrous "day of Jadaydah" in vol. i. of his work. [FN#36] This Abdullah, Pasha of Damascus, led the caravan in A.D. 1756. When the Shaykhs of the Harb tribe came to receive their black-mail, he cut off their heads, and sent the trophies to Stambul. During the next season the Harb were paralysed by the blow, but in the third year they levied 80,000 men, attacked the caravan, pillaged it, and slew every Turk that fell into their hands.

[p.264]CHAPTER XIV.

FROM BIR ABBAS TO AL-MADINAH.

THE 22nd July was a grand trial of temper to our little party. The position of Bir Abbas exactly resembles that of Al-Hamra, except that the bulge of the hill-girt Fiumara is at this place about two miles wide. There are the usual stone-forts and palm-leaved hovels for the troopers, stationed here to hold the place and to escort travellers, with a coffee-shed, and a hut or two, called a bazar, but no village. Our encamping ground was a bed of loose sand, with which the violent Samum filled the air; not a tree or a bush was in sight; a species of hardy locust and swarms of flies were the only remnants of animal life: the scene was a caricature of Sind. Although we were now some hundred feet, to judge by the water-shed, above the level of the sea, the mid-day sun scorched even through the tent; our frail tenement was more than once blown down, and the heat of the sand made the work of repitching it painful. Again my companions, after breakfasting, hurried to the coffee-house, and returned one after the other with dispiriting reports. Then they either quarrelled desperately about nothing, or they threw themselves on their rugs, pretending to sleep in very sulkiness. The lady Maryam soundly rated her surly son for refusing to fill her chibuk for the twelfth time that morning, with the usual religious phrases, "Allah direct thee into the right way, O my son!"-meaning that he was going to the bad, and "O my calamity, thy mother is a lone woman, O Allah!"-equivalent to the

[p.265] European parental plaint about grey hairs being brought down in sorrow to the grave. Before noon a small caravan which followed us came in with two dead bodies,-a trooper shot by the Badawin, and an Albanian killed by sun-stroke, or the fiery wind.[FN#1] Shortly after mid-day a Caravan, travelling in an opposite direction, passed by us; it was composed chiefly of Indian pilgrims, habited in correct costume, and hurrying towards Meccah in hot haste. They had been allowed to pass unmolested, because probably a pound sterling could not have been collected from a hundred pockets, and Sa'ad the Robber sometimes does a cheap good deed. But our party,

[p.266] having valuables with them, did not seem to gather heart from this event. In the evening we all went out to see some Arab Shaykhs who were travelling to Bir Abbas in order to receive their salaries. Without such douceurs, it is popularly said and believed, no stone walls could enable a Turk to hold Al-Hijaz against the hill-men. Such was our system in Afghanistan-most unwise, teaching in limine the subject to despise rulers subject to blackmail. Besides which, these highly paid Shaykhs do no good. When a fight takes place or a road is shut, they profess inability to restrain their clansmen; and the richer they are, of course the more formidable they become. The party looked well; they were Harb, dignified old men in the picturesque Arab costume, with erect forms, fierce thin features, and white beards, well armed, and mounted upon high-bred and handsomely equipped dromedaries from Al-Shark.[FN#2] Preceded by their half-naked clansmen, carrying spears twelve or thirteen feet long, garnished with single or double tufts of black ostrich feathers, and ponderous matchlocks, which were discharged on approaching the fort, they were not without a kind of barbaric pomp.

Immediately after the reception of these Shaykhs, there was a parade of the Arnaut Irregular horse. About 500 of them rode out to the sound of the Nakus or little kettle-drum, whose puny notes strikingly contrasted with this really martial sight. The men, it is true, were mounted on lean Arab and Egyptian nags, ragged-looking as their clothes; and each trooper was armed

[p.267] in his own way, though all had swords, pistols and matchlocks, or firelocks of some kind. But they rode hard as Galway "buckeens," and there was a gallant reckless look about the fellows which prepossessed me strongly in their favour. Their animals, too, though notable "screws," were well trained, and their accoutrements were intended for use, not show. I watched their manoeuvres with curiosity. They left their cantonments one by one, and, at the sound of the tom-tom, by degrees formed a "plump" or "herse"-column[FN#3] it could not be called-all huddled together in confusion. Presently the little kettle-drum changed its note and the parade its aspect. All the serried body dispersed as would Light Infantry, now continuing their advance, then hanging back, then making a rush, and all the time keeping up a hot fire upon the enemy. At another signal they suddenly put their horses to full speed, and, closing upon the centre, again advanced in a dense mass. After three-quarters of an hour parading, sometimes charging singly, often in bodies, to the right, to the left, and straight in front, halting when requisite, and occasionally retreating, Parthian-like, the Arnauts turned en masse towards their lines. As they neared them, all broke off and galloped in, ventre a terre, discharging their shotted guns with much recklessness against objects assumed to denote the enemy. But ball-cartridge seemed to be plentiful hereabouts; during the whole of this and the next day, I remarked that bullets, notched for noise, were fired away in mere fun.[FN#4]

[p.268] Barbarous as these movements may appear to the Cavalry Martinet of the "good old school," yet to something of the kind will the tactics of that arm of the service, I humbly opine, return, when the perfect use of the rifle, the revolver, and field artillery shall have made the present necessarily slow system fatal. Also, if we adopt the common sense opinion of a modern writer,[FN#5] and determine that "individual prowess, skill in single combats, good horsemanship, and sharp swords render cavalry formidable," these semi-barbarians are wiser in their generation than the civilised, who never practise arms (properly so called), whose riding-drill never made a good rider, whose horses are over-weighted, and whose swords are worthless. They have yet another point of superiority over us; they cultivate the individuality of the soldier, whilst we strive to make him a mere automaton. In the days of European chivalry, battles were a system of well-fought duels. This was succeeded by the age of discipline, when, to use the language of Rabelais, "men seemed rather a consort of organ-pipes, or mutual concord of the wheels of a clock, than an infantry and cavalry, or army of soldiers." Our aim should now be to combine the merits of both systems; to make men individually

[p.269] excellent in the use of weapons, and still train them to act naturally and habitually in concert. The French have given a model to Europe in the Chasseurs de Vincennes,-a body capable of most perfect combination, yet never more truly excellent than when each man is fighting alone. We, I suppose, shall imitate them at some future time.[FN#6]

A distant dropping of fire-arms ushered in the evening of our first melancholy day at Bir Abbas. This, said my companions, was a sign that the troops and the hill-men were fighting. They communicated the intelligence, as if it ought to be an effectual check upon my impatience to proceed; it acted, however, in the contrary way. I supposed that the Badawin, after battling out the night, would be less warlike the next day; the others, however, by no means agreed in opinion with me. At Yambu' the whole party had boasted loudly that the people of Al-Madinah could keep their Badawin in order, and had twitted the boy Mohammed with their superiority in this respect to his townsmen, the Meccans. But now that a trial was impending, I saw none of the fearlessness so conspicuous when peril was only possible. The change was charitably to be explained by the presence of their valuables; the "Sahharahs," like conscience, making cowards of them all. But the young Meccan, who, having sent on his box by sea from Yambu'

[p.270] to Jeddah, felt merry, like the empty traveller, would not lose the opportunity to pay off old scores. He taunted the Madinites till they stamped and raved with fury. At last, fearing some violence, and feeling answerable for the boy's safety to his family, I seized him by the nape of his neck and the upper posterior portion of his nether garments, and drove him before me into the tent.

When the hubbub had subsided, and all sat after supper smoking the pipe of peace in the cool night air, I rejoined my companions, and found them talking, as usual, about old Shaykh Sa'ad. The scene was appropriate for the subject. In the distance rose the blue peak said to be his eyrie, and the place was pointed out with fearful meaning. As it is inaccessible to strangers, report has converted it into another garden of Iram. A glance, however, at its position and formation satisfied me that the bubbling springs, the deep forests, and the orchards of apple-trees, quinces and pomegranates, with which my companions furnished it, were a "myth," whilst some experience of Arab ignorance of the art of defence suggested to me strong doubts about the existence of an impregnable fortress on the hill-top. The mountains, however, looked beautiful in the moonlight, and distance gave them a semblance of mystery well suited to the themes which they inspired.

That night I slept within my Shugduf, for it would have been mere madness to sleep on the open plain in a place so infested by banditti. The being armed is but a poor precaution near this robbers' den. If you wound a man in the very act of plundering, an exorbitant sum must be paid for blood-money. If you kill him, even to save your life, then adieu to any chance of escaping destruction. Roused three or four times during the night by jackals and dogs prowling about our little camp, I observed that my companions, who had agreed amongst themselves to keep watch by turns, had all

[p.271] fallen into a sound sleep. However, when we awoke in the morning, the usual inspection of goods and chattels showed that nothing was gone.

The next day (July 23rd) was a forced halt, a sore stimulant to the traveller's ill-humour; and the sun, the sand, the dust, the furious Samum, and the want of certain small supplies, aggravated our grievance. My sore foot had been inflamed by a dressing of onion skin which the lady Maryam had insisted upon applying to it.[FN#7] Still being resolved to push forward by any conveyance that could be procured, I offered ten dollars for a fresh dromedary to take me on to Al- Madinah. Shaykh Hamid also declared he would leave his box in charge of a friend and accompany me. Sa'ad the Demon flew into a passion at the idea of any member of the party escaping the general evil; and he privily threatened Mohammed to cut off the legs of any camel that ventured into camp. This, the boy-who, like a boy of the world as he was, never lost an opportunity of making mischief-instantly communicated to me, and it brought on a furious dispute. Sa'ad was reproved and apologised for by the rest of the party; and presently he himself was pacified, principally, I believe, by the intelligence that no camel was to be hired at Bir Abbas. One of the Arnaut garrison, who had obtained leave to go to Al-Madinah, came to ask us if we could mount him, as otherwise he should be obliged to walk the whole way. With him we debated the propriety of attempting a passage through the hills by one of the many by-paths that traverse them: the project was amply discussed, and duly rejected.

We passed the day in the usual manner; all crowded

[p.272] together for shelter under the tent. Even Maryam joined us, loudly informing Ali, her son, that his mother was no longer a woman but a man; whilst our party generally, cowering away from the fierce glances of the sun, were either eating or occasionally smoking, or were occupied in cooling and drinking water. About sunset-time came a report that we were to start that night. None could believe that such good was in store for us; before sleeping, however, we placed each camel's pack apart, so as to be ready for loading at a moment's notice; and we took care to watch that our Badawin did not drive their animals away to any distance. At last, about 11 P.M., as the moon was beginning to peep over the Eastern wall of rock, was heard the glad sound of the little kettle-drum calling the Albanian troopers to mount and march. In the shortest possible time all made ready; and, hurriedly crossing the sandy flat, we found ourselves in company with three or four Caravans, forming one large body for better defence against the dreaded Hawamid.[FN#8] By dint of much manoeuvring, arms in hand,-Shaykh Hamid and the "Demon" took the prominent parts,-we, though the last comers, managed to secure places about the middle of the line. On such occasions all push forward recklessly, as an English mob in the strife of sight-seeing; the rear, being left unguarded, is the place of danger, and none seeks the honour of occupying it.

We travelled that night up the Fiumara in an Easterly direction, and at early dawn (July 24th) found ourselves in an ill-famed gorge called Shuab al-Hajj,[FN#9] the "Pilgrimage Pass." The loudest talkers became silent as we neared it, and their countenances showed apprehension written in legible characters. Presently from the high precipitous

[p.273] cliff on our left, thin blue curls of smoke-somehow or other they caught every eye-rose in the air; and instantly afterwards rang the sharp cracks of the hillmen's matchlocks, echoed by the rocks on the right. My Shugduf had been broken by the camel's falling during the night, so I called out to Mansur that we had better splice the framework with a bit of rope: he looked up, saw me laughing, and with an ejaculation of disgust disappeared. A number of Badawin were to be seen swarming like hornets over the crests of the hills, boys as well as men carrying huge weapons, and climbing with the agility of cats. They took up comfortable places on the cut-throat eminence, and began firing upon us with perfect convenience to themselves. The height of the hills and the glare of the rising sun prevented my seeing objects very distinctly, but my companions pointed out to me places where the rock had been scarped, and where a kind of rough stone breastwork-the Sangah of Afghanistan-had been piled up as a defence, and a rest for the long barrel of the matchlock. It was useless to challenge the Badawin to come down and fight us like men upon the plain; they will do this on the Eastern coast of Arabia, but rarely, if ever, in Al-Hijaz. And it was equally unprofitable for our escort to fire upon a foe ensconced behind stones. Besides which, had a robber been killed, the whole country would have risen to a man; with a force of 3,000 or 4,000, they might have gained courage to overpower a Caravan, and in such a case not a soul would have escaped. As it was, the Badawin directed their fire principally against the Albanians. Some of these called for assistance to the party of Shaykhs that accompanied us from Bir Abbas; but the dignified old men, dismounting and squatting in council round their pipes, came to the conclusion that, as the robbers would probably turn a deaf ear to their words, they had better spare themselves the trouble of speaking.

[p.274] We had therefore nothing to do but to blaze away as much powder, and to veil ourselves in as much smoke, as possible; the result of the affair was that we lost twelve men, besides camels and other beasts of burden. Though the bandits showed no symptoms of bravery, and confined themselves to slaughtering the enemy from their hill-top, my companions seemed to consider this questionable affair a most gallant exploit.

After another hour's hurried ride through the Wady Sayyalah, appeared Shuhada, to which we pushed on,

"Like nighted swain on lonely road, When close behind fierce goblins tread."

Shuhada is a place which derives its name, "The Martyrs," because here are supposed to be buried forty braves that fell in one of Mohammed's many skirmishes. Some authorities consider it the cemetery of the people of Wady Sayyalah.[FN#10] The once populous valley is now barren, and one might easily pass by the consecrated spot without observing a few ruined walls and a cluster of rude Badawin graves, each an oval of rough stones lying beneath the thorn trees on the left of and a little off the road. Another half hour took us to a favourite halting-place, Bir al-Hindi,[FN#11] so called from some forgotten Indian

[p.275] who dug a well there. But we left it behind, wishing to put as much space as we could between our tents and the nests of the Hamidah. Then quitting the Fiumara, we struck Northwards into a well-trodden road running over stony rising ground. The heat became sickening; here, and in the East generally, at no time is the sun more dangerous than between eight and nine A.M. Still we hurried on. It was not before eleven A.M. that we reached our destination, a rugged plain covered with stones, coarse gravel, and thorn trees in abundance; and surrounded by inhospitable rocks, pinnacle-shaped, of granite below, and in the upper parts fine limestone. The well was at least two miles distant, and not a hovel was in sight; a few Badawi children belonging to an outcast tribe fed their starveling goats upon the hills. This place is called "Suwaykah"; it is, I was told, that celebrated in the history of the Arabs.[FN#12] Yet not for this reason did my comrades look lovingly upon its horrors: their boxes were safe and with the eye of imagination they could now behold their homes. That night we must have travelled about twenty-two miles; the direction of the road was due East, and the only remarkable feature in the ground was its steady rise.

[p.276] We pitched the tent under a villainous Mimosa, the tree whose shade is compared by poetic Badawin to the false friend who deserts you in your utmost need. I enlivened the hot dull day by a final affair with Sa'ad the Demon. His alacrity at Yambu' obtained for him the loan of a couple of dollars: he had bought grain at Al-Hamra, and now we were near Al-Madinah: still there was not a word about repayment. And knowing that an Oriental debtor discharges his debt as he pays his rent, namely, with the greatest unwillingness,-and that, on the other hand, an Oriental creditor will devote the labour of a year to recovering a sixpence, I resolved to act as a native of the country, placed in my position, would; and by dint of sheer dunning and demanding pledges, to recover my property. About noon Sa'ad the Demon, after a furious rush, bare-headed, through the burning sun, flung the two dollars down upon my carpet: however, he presently recovered temper, and, as subsequent events showed, I had chosen the right part. Had he not been forced to repay his debt, he would have despised me as a "freshman," and would have coveted more. As it was, the boy Mohammed bore the brunt of unpopular feeling, my want of liberality being traced to his secret and perfidious admonitions. He supported his burden the more philosophically, because, as he notably calculated, every dollar saved at Al-Madinah would be spent under his stewardship at Meccah.

At four P.M. (July 24th) we left Suwaykah, all of us in the crossest of humours, and travelled in a N.E. direction. So "out of temper" were my companions, that at sunset, of the whole party, Omar Effendi was the only one who would eat supper. The rest sat upon the ground, pouting, grumbling, and-they had been allowed to exhaust my stock of Latakia-smoking Syrian tobacco as if it were a grievance. Such a game at naughty children, I have seldom seen played even by Oriental men. The boy Mohammed