For Two Hours We Urged Our Mules In A South-East
Direction Down The Broad And Winding Fiumara, Taking Care To Inspect Every
Well, But Finding Them All Full Of Dry Sand.
Then turning eastwards, we
crossed a plain called by the Donkey "Battaladayti Taranay"--the Flats of
Taranay--an exact
Representation of the maritime regions about Zayla.
Herds of camels and flocks of milky sheep browsing amongst thorny Acacia
and the tufted Kulan, suggested pleasing visions to starving travellers,
and for the first time after three days of hard riding, we saw the face of
man. The shepherds, Mikahil of the Habr Awal tribe, all fled as we
approached: at last one was bold enough to stand and deliver the news. My
companions were refreshed by good reports: there had been few murders, and
the sea-board was tolerably clear of our doughty enemies, the Ayyal Ahmed.
We pricked over the undulating growth of parched grass, shaping our
course for Jebel Almis, to sailors the chief landmark of this coast, and
for a certain thin blue stripe on the far horizon, upon which we gazed
with gladdened eyes.
Our road lay between low brown hills of lime and sandstone, the Sub-Ghauts
forming a scattered line between the maritime mountains and the sea.
Presently the path was choked by dense scrub of the Arman Acacia: its
yellow blossoms scented the air, but hardly made amends for the injuries
of a thorn nearly two inches long, and tipped with a wooden point sharp as
a needle. Emerging, towards evening, from this bush, we saw large herds of
camels, and called their guardians to come and meet us. For all reply they
ran like ostriches to the nearest rocks, tittering the cry of alarm, and
when we drew near each man implored us to harry his neighbour's cattle.
Throughout our wanderings in Somaliland this had never occurred: it
impressed me strongly with the disturbed state of the regions inhabited by
the Habr Awal. After some time we persuaded a Bedouin who, with frantic
gestures, was screaming and flogging his camels, to listen: reassured by
our oaths, he declared himself to be a Bahgoba, and promised to show us a
village of the Ayyal Gedid. The Hammal, who had married a daughter of this
clan, and had constituted his father-in-law my protector at Berberah, made
sure of a hospitable reception: "To-night we shall sleep under cover and
drink milk," quoth one hungry man to another, who straightways rejoined,
"And we shall eat mutton!"
After dark we arrived at a kraal, we unsaddled our mules and sat down near
it, indulging in Epicurean anticipations. Opposite us, by the door of a
hut, was a group of men who observed our arrival, but did not advance or
salute us. Impatient, I fired a pistol, when a gruff voice asked why we
disturbed the camels that were being milked. "We have fallen upon the
Ayyal Shirdon"--our bitterest enemies--whispered the End of Time.
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