After Wandering Through The Island, Which Contained Not A Human Being Save
A Party Of Somal Boatmen, Cutting Firewood For Aden, And Having Massacred
A Number Of Large Fishing Hawks And Small Sea-Birds, To Astonish The
Natives, Our Companions, We Returned To The Landing-Place.
Here an awning
had been spread; the goat destined for our dinner--I have long since
conquered all dislike, dear L., to seeing dinner perambulating--had been
boiled and disposed in hunches upon small mountains of rice, and jars of
sweet water stood in the air to cool.
After feeding, regardless of
Quartana and her weird sisterhood, we all lay down for siesta in the light
sea-breeze. Our slumbers were heavy, as the Zayla people say is ever the
case at Saad el Din, and the sun had declined low ere we awoke. The tide
was out, and we waded a quarter of a mile to the boat, amongst giant crabs
who showed grisly claws, sharp coralline, and sea-weed so thick as to
become almost a mat. You must believe me when I tell you that in the
shallower parts the sun was painfully hot, even to my well tried feet. We
picked up a few specimens of fine sponge, and coral, white and red, which,
if collected, might be valuable to Zayla, and, our pic-nic concluded, we
returned home.
On the 14th November we left the town to meet a caravan of the Danakil
[14], and to visit the tomb of the great saint Abu Zarbay. The former
approached in a straggling line of asses, and about fifty camels laiden
with cows' hides, ivories and one Abyssinian slave-girl. The men were wild
as ourang-outangs, and the women fit only to flog cattle: their animals
were small, meagre-looking, and loosely made; the asses of the Bedouins,
however, are far superior to those of Zayla, and the camels are,
comparatively speaking, well bred. [15] In a few minutes the beasts were
unloaded, the Gurgis or wigwams pitched, and all was prepared for repose.
A caravan so extensive being an unusual event,--small parties carrying
only grain come in once or twice a week,--the citizens abandoned even
their favourite game of ball, with an eye to speculation. We stood at
"Government House," over the Ashurbara Gate, to see the Bedouins, and we
quizzed (as Town men might denounce a tie or scoff at a boot) the huge
round shields and the uncouth spears of these provincials. Presently they
entered the streets, where we witnessed their frantic dance in presence of
the Hajj and other authorities. This is the wild men's way of expressing
their satisfaction that Fate has enabled them to convoy the caravan
through all the dangers of the desert.
The Shaykh Ibrahim Abu Zarbay [16] lies under a whitewashed dome close to
the Ashurbara Gate of Zayla: an inscription cut in wood over the doorway
informs us that the building dates from A.H. 1155=AD. 1741-2. It is now
dilapidated, the lintel is falling in, the walls are decaying, and the
cupola, which is rudely built, with primitive gradients,--each step
supported as in Cashmere and other parts of India, by wooden beams,--
threatens the heads of the pious. The building is divided into two
compartments, forming a Mosque and a Mazar or place of pious visitation:
in the latter are five tombs, the two largest covered with common chintz
stuff of glaring colours. Ibrahim was one of the forty-four Hazrami saints
who landed at Berberah, sat in solemn conclave upon Auliya Kumbo or Holy
Hill, and thence dispersed far and wide for the purpose of propagandism.
He travelled to Harar about A.D. 1430 [17], converted many to El Islam,
and left there an honored memory. His name is immortalised in El Yemen by
the introduction of El Kat. [17]
Tired of the town, I persuaded the Hajj to send me with an escort to the
Hissi or well. At daybreak I set out with four Arab matchlock-men, and
taking a direction nearly due west, waded and walked over an alluvial
plain flooded by every high tide. On our way we passed lines of donkeys
and camels carrying water-skins from the town; they were under guard like
ourselves, and the sturdy dames that drove them indulged in many a loud
joke at our expense. After walking about four miles we arrived at what is
called the Takhushshah--the sandy bed of a torrent nearly a mile broad
[19], covered with a thin coat of caked mud: in the centre is a line of
pits from three to four feet deep, with turbid water at the bottom. Around
them were several frame-works of four upright sticks connected by
horizontal bars, and on these were stretched goats'-skins, forming the
cattle-trough of the Somali country. About the wells stood troops of
camels, whose Eesa proprietors scowled fiercely at us, and stalked over
the plain with their long, heavy spears: for protection against these
people, the citizens have erected a kind of round tower, with a ladder for
a staircase. Near it are some large tamarisks and the wild henna of the
Somali country, which supplies a sweet-smelling flower, but is valueless
as a dye. A thick hedge of thorn-trees surrounds the only cultivated
ground near Zayla: as Ibn Said declared in old times, "the people have no
gardens, and know nothing of fruits." The variety and the luxuriance of
growth, however, prove that industry is the sole desideratum. I remarked
the castor-plant,--no one knows its name or nature [20],--the Rayhan or
Basil, the Kadi, a species of aloe, whose strongly scented flowers the
Arabs of Yemen are fond of wearing in their turbans. [21] Of vegetables,
there were cucumbers, egg-plants, and the edible hibiscus; the only fruit
was a small kind of water-melon.
After enjoying a walk through the garden and a bath at the well, I
started, gun in hand, towards the jungly plain that stretches towards the
sea.
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