It Was Mohammed Al-Basyuni, The Meccan
Boy Of Whom I Had Bought My Pilgrim-Garb At Cairo.
There I had refused
his companionship, but here for reasons of his own-one of them was an
utter want of money,- he would take no excuse.
When he prayed, he stood
behind me,[FN#20] thereby proving pliancy of conscience, for he
suspected me from the first of being at least a heretic.
After prayer he lighted a pipe, and immediately placed the snake-like
tube in my hand; this is an argument which the tired traveller can
rarely resist. He then began to rummage my saddle-bags; he drew forth
stores of provisions, rolls, water-melons, boiled eggs, and dates, and
whilst lighting the fire and boiling the coffee, he managed to
distribute his own stock, which was neither plentiful nor first-rate,
to the camel-men. Shaykh Nassar and his brother looked aghast at this
movement, but the boy was inexorable. They tried a few rough hints,
which he noticed by singing a Hindustani couplet that asserts the
impropriety of anointing rats' heads with jasmine oil. They suspected
abuse, and waxed cross; he acknowledged this by deriding them. "I have
heard of Nasrs and Nasirs and Mansurs, but may Allah spare me the
[p.153]mortification of a Nassar!" said the boy, relying upon my
support. And I urged him on, wanting to see how the city Arab treats
the countryman. He then took my tobacco-pouch from the angry Badawin,
and in a stage-whisper reproved me for entrusting it to such thieves;
insisting, at the same time, upon drinking all the coffee, so that the
poor guides had to prepare some for themselves. He improved every
opportunity of making mischief. "We have eaten water-melon!" cried
Nassar, patting its receptacle in token of repletion. "Dost thou hear,
my lord, how they grumble?-the impudent ruffians!" remarked
Mohammed-"We have eaten water-melon! that is to say, we ought to have
eaten meat!" The Badawin, completely out of temper, told him not to
trust himself among their hills. He seized a sword, and began capering
about after the fashion of the East-Indian school of arms, and boasted
that he would attack single-handed the whole clan, which elicited an
ironical "Allah! Allah!" from the hearers.
After an hour most amusingly spent in this way, I arose, and insisted
upon mounting, much to the dissatisfaction of my guides, who wished to
sleep there. Shaykh Nassar and his brother had reckoned upon living
gratis, for at least three days, judging it improbable that a soft
Effendi would hurry himself. When they saw the fair vision dissolve,
they began to finesse: 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. These wretches, who were about a dozen in number,
appeared to be of the lowest class; their garments consisted of a
Burnus-cloak and a pair of sandals; their sole weapon a long knife, and
their only stock a bag of dry provisions. Each had his large wooden
bowl, but none carried water with him. It was impossible to help
pitying their state, nor could I eat, seeing them hungry, thirsty, and
way-worn.
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