At dawn on the 30th January, I arose and inspected the site of Bulhar. It
was then deserted, a huge heap of bleached bones being the only object
suggestive of a settlement. This, at different times, has been a thriving
place, owing to its roadstead, and the feuds of Berberah: it was generally
a village of Gurgis, with some stone-houses built by Arabs. The coast,
however, is open and havenless, and the Shimal wind, feared even at the
Great Port, here rages with resistless violence. Yet the place revives
when plundering parties render the plain unsafe: the timid merchants here
embark their goods and persons, whilst their camels are marched round the
bay.
Mounting at 6 A.M. we started slowly along the sea coast, and frequently
halted on the bushy Fiumara-cut plain. About noon we bathed in the sea,
and sat on the sands for a while, my people praying for permission to pass
the kraals of their enemies, the Ayyal Ahmed, by night. This, their last
request, was graciously granted: to say sooth, rapid travelling was now
impossible; the spear failed to urge on one mule, and the Hammal was
obliged to flog before him another wretched animal. We then traversed an
alluvial plain, lately flooded, where slippery mud doubled the fatigue of
our cattle; and, at 3 P.M., again halted on a patch of grass below the
rocky spur of Dabasenis, a hill half way between Bulhar and Berberah. On
the summit I was shown an object that makes travellers shudder, a thorn-
tree, under which the Habr Gerhajis [13] and their friends of the Eesa
Musa sit, vulture-like, on the look-out for plunder and murder. Advancing
another mile, we came to some wells, where we were obliged to rest our
animals. Having there finished our last mouthful of food, we remounted,
and following the plain eastward, prepared for a long night-march.
As the light of day waned we passed on the right hand a table-formed hill,
apparently a detached fragment of the sub-Ghauts or coast range. This spot
is celebrated in local legends as "Auliya Kumbo," the Mount of Saints,
where the forty-four Arab Santons sat in solemn conclave before dispersing
over the Somali country to preach El Islam. It lies about six hours of
hard walking from Berberah.
At midnight we skirted Bulho Faranji, the Franks' Watering-place [14], a
strip of ground thickly covered with trees. Abounding in grass and water,
it has been the site of a village: when we passed it, however, all was
desert. By the moon's light we descried, as we silently skirted the sea,
the kraals and folds of our foe the Ayyal Ahmed, and at times we could
distinguish the lowing of their cattle: my companions chuckled hugely at
the success of their manoeuvre, and perhaps not without reason. At
Berberah we were afterwards informed that a shepherd in the bush had
witnessed and reported our having passed, when the Ayyal Ahmed cursed the
star that had enabled us to slip unhurt through their hands.
Our mules could scarcely walk: after every bow-shot they rolled upon the
ground and were raised only by the whip. A last halt was called when
arrived within four miles of Berberah: the End of Time and Long Guled,
completely worn out, fell fast asleep upon the stones. Of all the party
the Hammal alone retained strength and spirits: the sturdy fellow talked,
sang, and shouted, and, whilst the others could scarcely sit their mules,
he danced his war-dance and brandished his spear. I was delighted with his
"pluck."
Now a long dark line appears upon the sandy horizon--it grows more
distinct in the shades of night--the silhouettes of shipping appear
against sea and sky. A cry of joy bursts from every mouth: cheer, boys,
cheer, our toils here touch their end!
The End of Time first listened to the small still voice of Caution. He
whispered anxiously to make no noise lest enemies might arise, that my
other attendants had protectors at Berberah, but that he, the hated and
feared, as the _locum tenens_ of Sharmarkay,--the great _bete noire_,--
depended wholly upon my defence. The Donkey led us slowly and cautiously
round the southern quarter of the sleeping town, through bone heaps and
jackals tearing their unsavoury prey: at last he marched straight into the
quarter appropriated to the Ayyal Gedid our protectors. Anxiously I
inquired if my comrades had left Berberah, and heard with delight that
they awaited me there. It was then 2 A.M. and we had marched at least
forty miles. The Somal, when in fear of forays, drive laden camels over
this distance in about ten hours.
I dismounted at the huts where my comrades were living. A glad welcome, a
dish of rice, and a glass of strong waters--pardon dear L., these details
--made amends for past privations and fatigue. The servants and the
wretched mules were duly provided for, and I fell asleep, conscious of
having performed a feat which, like a certain ride to York, will live in
local annals for many and many a year.
FOOTNOTES
[1] It is an Arab as well as a Somali ceremony to throw a little Kaliyah
or Salul (toasted grain) over the honored traveller when he enters hut or
tent.
[2] Bread made of holcus grain dried and broken into bits; it is thrown
into broth or hot water, and thus readily supplies the traveller with a
wholesome _panade_.
[3] The Somal invariably call Berberah the "Sahil," (meaning in Arabic the
sea-shore,) as Zayla with them is "Audal," and Harar "Adari."
[4] "Al Nar wa la al Ar," an Arabic maxim, somewhat more forcible than our
"death rather than dishonor."
[5] This is the second great division of the Somal people, the father of
the tribe being Awal, the cadet of Ishak el Hazrami.
