The Youth Himself, Being Too Grand To Ride A
Donkey, And Unable To Borrow A Horse, Preferred Walking.
He was proud
as a peacock, being habited in a style somewhat resembling the plume of
that gorgeous bird, in the coat of many colours-yellow, red, and golden
flowers, apparently sewed on a field of bright green silk-which cost me
so dear in the Harim.
He was armed, as indeed all of us were, in
readiness for the Badawin, and he anxiously awaited opportunities of
discharging his pistol. Our course lay from Shaykh Hamid's house in the
Manakhah, along and up the
[p.399]Fiumara, "Al-Sayh," and through the Bab Kuba, a little gate in
the suburb wall, where, by-the-bye, my mounted companion was nearly
trampled down by a rush of half-wild camels. Outside the town, in this
direction, Southward, is a plain of clay, mixed with chalk, and here
and there with sand, whence protrude blocks and little ridges of
basalt. As far as Kuba, and the Harrah ridge to the West, the earth is
sweet and makes excellent gugglets.[FN#1] Immediately outside the gate
I saw a kiln, where they were burning tolerable bricks. Shortly after
leaving the suburb, an Indian, who joined our party upon the road,
pointed out on the left of the way what he declared was the place of
the celebrated Khandak, or Moat, the Torres Vedras of Arabian
History.[FN#2] Presently the Nakhil, or palm plantations, began.
Nothing lovelier to the eye, weary with hot red glare, than the rich
green waving crops and the cool shade, the "food of vision," as the
Arabs call it, and "pure water to the parched throat." For hours I
could have sat and looked at it. The air was soft and balmy; a perfumed
breeze, strange luxury in Al-Hijaz, wandered amongst the date fronds;
there were fresh flowers and bright foliage; in fact, at Midsummer,
every beautiful feature of Spring. Nothing more delightful to the ear
than the warbling of the small birds, that sweet familiar sound; the
splashing of tiny cascades from the wells into the wooden troughs,
[p.400]and the musical song of the water-wheels. Travellers-young
travellers-in the East talk of the "dismal grating," the "mournful
monotony," and the "melancholy creaking of these dismal machines." To
the veteran wanderer their sound is delightful from association,
reminding him of fields and water-courses, and hospitable villages, and
plentiful crops. The expatriated Nubian, for instance, listens to the
water-wheel with as deep emotion as the Ranz des Vaches ever excited in
the hearts of Switzer mercenary at Naples, or "Lochaber no more," among
a regiment of Highlanders in the West Indies. The date-trees of
Al-Madinah merit their celebrity. Their stately columnar stems, here,
seems higher than in other lands, and their lower fronds are allowed to
tremble in the breeze without mutilation.[FN#3] These enormous palms
were loaded with ripening fruits; and the clusters, carefully tied up,
must often have weighed upwards of eighty pounds.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 276 of 302
Words from 144378 to 144891
of 157964
