They induced the camel-man, who ran by the side
of Mohammed's dromedary, to precede the animal-a favourite manoeuvre to
prevent overspeed. Ordered to fall back, the man pleaded fatigue, and
inability to walk. The boy Mohammed immediately asked if I had any
objection to dismount one of my guides, and to let his weary attendant
ride for an hour or so. I at once assented, and the Badawin obeyed me
with ominous grumblings. When we resumed our march the melancholy Arabs
had no song left in them; whereas Mohammed chaunted vociferously, and
quoted
[p.154]bad Hindustani and worse Persian till silence was forcibly
imposed upon him. The camel-men lagged behind, in order to prevent my
dromedary advancing too fast, and the boy's guide, after dismounting,
would stride along in front of us, under pretext of showing the way.
And so we jogged on, now walking, then trotting, till the dromedaries
began to grunt with fatigue, and the Arabs clamoured for a halt.
At midnight we reached the Central Station, and lay down under its
walls to take a little rest. The dews fell heavily, wetting the sheets
that covered us; but who cares for such trifles in the Desert? The moon
shone bright;[FN#21] the breeze blew coolly, and the jackal sang a
lullaby which lost no time in inducing the soundest sleep. As the
Wolf's Tail[FN#22] showed in the heavens we arose. Grey mists floating
over the hills northwards gave the Dar al-Bayda,[FN#23] the Pasha's
Palace, the look of some old feudal castle. There was a haze in the
atmosphere, which beautified even the face of Desolation. The swift
flying Kata[FN#24] sprang in noisy coveys from the road, and a stray
gazelle paced daintily over the stony plain. As we passed by the
Pilgrims' tree, I
[p.155]added another rag to its coat of tatters.[FN#25] We then invoked
the aid of the holy saint Al-Dakruri[FN#26] from his cream-coloured
abode, mounted our camels, and resumed the march in real earnest. The
dawn passed away in its delicious coolness, and sultry morning came on.
Then day glared in its fierceness, and the noontide sun made the plain
glow with terrible heat. Still we pressed onwards.
At 3 P.M. we turned off the road into a dry water-course, which is not
far from No. 13 Station. The sand was dotted with the dried-up leaves
of the Datura, and strongly perfumed by "Shih," a kind of Absinthe
(Artemisia),[FN#27] the sweetest herb of the Desert. A Mimosa was
there, and although its shade at this season is little better than
[p.156]a cocoa tree's,[FN#28] the Badawin would not neglect it. We lay
down upon the sand, to rest among a party of Maghrabi pilgrims
travelling to Suez.
