This Left The Case Exactly As It
Was Before; None Would Abandon His Party To Go On Shore:
So Ali Murad
rowed off towards Suez, giving us a parting injunction to be good, and
not fight ; to
Trust in Allah, and that Allah would make all things
easy to us. His departure was the signal for a second fray, which
in its accidents differed a little from the first. During the previous
disturbance we kept our places with weapons in our hands. This time we
were summoned by the Maghrabis to relieve their difficulties, by taking
about half a dozen of them on the poop. Sa'ad the Demon at once rose
with an oath, and threw amongst us a bundle of "Nabbut"-goodly ashen
staves six feet long, thick as a man's wrist, well greased, and tried
in many a rough bout. He shouted to us "Defend yourselves if you don't
wish to be the meat of the Maghrabis!" and to the enemy-"Dogs and sons
of dogs! now shall you see what the children of the Arab are." "I am
Omar of Daghistan!" "I am Abdullah the son of Joseph!" "I am Sa'ad the
Demon!" we exclaimed, "renowning it" by this display of name and
patronymic. To do our enemies justice, they showed no
[p.193] sign of flinching; they swarmed towards the poop like angry
hornets, and encouraged each other with cries of "Allaho akbar!" But we
had a vantage-ground about four feet above them, and their palm-sticks
and short daggers could do nothing against our terrible quarterstaves.
In vain the "Jacquerie," tried to scale the poop and to overpower us by
numbers; their courage only secured them more broken heads.
At first I began to lay on load with main morte, really fearing to kill
some one with such a weapon; but it soon became evident that the
Maghrabis' heads and shoulders could bear and did require the utmost
exertion of strength. Presently a thought struck me. A large earthen
jar full of drinking water,[FN#3]-in its heavy frame of wood the weight
might have been 100 lbs.,-stood upon the edge of the poop, and the
thick of the fray took place beneath. Seeing an opportunity, I crept up
to the jar, and, without attracting attention, rolled it down by a
smart push with the shoulder upon the swarm of assailants. The fall
caused a shriller shriek to rise above the ordinary din, for heads,
limbs, and bodies were sorely bruised by the weight, scratched by the
broken potsherds, and wetted by the sudden discharge. A fear that
something worse might be coming made the Maghrabis slink off towards
the end of the vessel. After a few minutes, we, sitting in grave
silence, received a deputation of individuals in whity-brown Burnus,
spotted and striped with what Mephistopheles calls a "curious juice."
They solicited peace, which we granted upon the condition that they
would pledge themselves to keep it. Our heads, shoulders, and hands
were penitentially kissed, and presently the fellows returned to bind
up their hurts in dirty
[p.194] rags. We owed this victory entirely to our own exertions, and
the meek Omar was by far the fiercest of the party. Our Rais, as we
afterwards learned, was an old fool who could do nothing but call for
the Fatihah,[FN#4] claim Bakhshish at every place where we moored for
the night, and spend his leisure hours in the "Caccia del
Mediterraneo." Our crew consisted of half a dozen Egyptian lads, who,
not being able to defend themselves, were periodically chastised by the
Maghrabis, especially when any attempt was made to cook, to fetch
water, or to prepare a pipe.[FN#5]
At length, about 3 P.M. on the 6th July, 1853, we shook out the sail,
and, as it bellied in the favourable wind, we recited the Fatihah with
upraised hands which we afterwards drew down our faces.[FN#6] As the
"Golden Wire" started from her place, I could not help casting one
wistful look upon the British flag floating over the Consulate. But the
momentary regret was stifled by the heart-bounding which prospects of
an adventure excite, and by the real pleasure of leaving Egypt. I had
lived there a stranger in the land, and a hapless life it had been: in
the streets every man's face, as he looked upon the Persian, was the
face of a foe. Whenever I came in contact with the native
officials,[FN#7] insolence marked the
[p.195] event; and the circumstance of living within hail of my
fellow-countrymen, and yet finding it impossible to enjoy their
society, still throws a gloom over the memory of my first sojourn in
Egypt.
The ships of the Red Sea-infamous region of rocks, reefs, and
shoals-cruise along the coast by day, and at night lay-to in the first
cove they find; they do not sail when it blows hard, and as in winter
time the weather is often stormy and the light of day does not last
long, the voyage is intolerably slow.[FN#8] At sunset we stayed our
adventurous course; and, still within sight of Suez, comfortably
anchored under the lee of Jabal Atakah, the "Mountain of
Deliverance,[FN#9]" the butt-end of Jabal Joshi. We were now on classic
waters. The Eastern shore was dotted with the little grove of
palm-trees which clusters around the Uyun Musa, or Moses' Wells; and on
the west, between two towering ridges, lay the mouth of the valley
(Badiyah, or Wady Tawarik, or Wady Musa) down which, according to
Father Sicard,[FN#10] the Israelites fled to
[p.196] the Sea of Sedge.[FN#11] The view was by no means deficient in
a sort of barbarous splendour. Verdure there was none, but under the
violet and orange tints of the sky the chalky rocks became heaps of
topazes, and the brown-burnt ridges masses of amethyst.
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