G—for
instance, “Gur’an” for “Kur’an” (a Koran), and Haggi or Hakki (my right). This g,
however, is pronounced deep in the throat, and does not resemble the
corrupt Egyptian pronunciation of the jim (j, [Arabic]), a letter which
the Copts knew not, and which their modern descendants cannot
articulate. In Al-Hijaz, the only abnormal sounds amongst the vowels
are o for u, as Khokh, a peach, and [Arabic] for [Arabic], as Ohod for
Uhud. The two short vowels fath and kasr are correctly pronounced, the
former never becoming a short e, as in Egypt (El for Al and Yemen for
Yaman), or a short i, as in Syria (“min” for “man” who? &c.) These vowels,
however, are differently articulated in every part of the Arab world.
So says St. Jerome of the Hebrew: “Nec refert atrum Salem aut Salim
nominetur; cum vocalibus in medio literis perraro utantur Hebraei; et
pro voluntate lectorum, ac varietate regionum, eadem verba diversis
sonis atque accentibus proferantur.”
[FN#45] e.g., Ant Zarabt—thou struckedst—for Zarabta. The final vowel,
suffering apocope, would leave “Zarabt” equally applicable to the first
person singular and the second person singular masculine.
[p.28]CHAPTER XXII.
A VISIT TO THE SAINTS’ CEMETERY.
A splendid comet, blazing in the western sky, had aroused the
apprehensions of the Madani. They all fell to predicting the usual
disasters—war, famine, and pestilence,—it being still an article of Moslem
belief that the Dread Star foreshows all manner of calamities. Men
discussed the probability of Abd al-Majid’s immediate decease; for here
as in Rome,
“When beggars die, there are no comets seen:
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes:”
and in every strange atmospheric appearance about the time of the Hajj,
the Hijazis are accustomed to read tidings of the dreaded Rih
al-Asfar.[FN#l]
Whether the event is attributable to the Zu Zuwabah—the “Lord of the
Forelock,”—or whether it was a case of post hoc, ergò, propter hoc, I would
not commit myself by deciding; but, influenced by some cause or other,
the Hawazim and the Hawamid, sub-families of the Benu-Harb, began to
fight about this time with prodigious fury. These tribes are generally
at feud, and the least provocation fans their smouldering wrath into a
flame. The Hawamid number, it is said, between three and four thousand
fighting men, and the Hawazim not more than seven hundred: the latter
however, are considered a race of desperadoes who pride themselves upon
never retreating,
[p.29]and under their fiery Shaykhs, Abbas and Abu Ali, they are a
thorn in the sides of their disproportionate foe. On the present
occasion a Hamidah[FN#2] happened to strike the camel of a Hazimi which
had trespassed; upon which the Hazimi smote the Hamidah, and called him
a rough name.