During the night-halt, provisions are cooked:
rice, or Kichri, a mixture of pulse and rice, is eaten with Chutnee and
lime-pickle, varied, occasionally, by tough mutton and indigestible
goat.
We arrived at Ja al-Sharifah at eight P.M., after a march of about
twenty-two miles.[FN#7] This halting-place is
[p.64] the rendezvous of Caravans: it lies 50° south-east of Al-Madinah,
and belongs rather to Nijd than to Al-Hijaz.
At three A.M., on Thursday (Sept. 1), we started up at the sound of the
departure-gun, struck the tent, loaded the camels, mounted, and found
ourselves hurrying through a gloomy pass, in the hills, to secure a
good place in the Caravan. This is an object of some importance, as,
during the whole journey, marching order must not be broken. We met
with a host of minor accidents, camels falling, Shugdufs bumping
against one another, and plentiful abuse. Pertinaciously we hurried on
till six A.M., at which hour we emerged from the Black Pass. The large
crimson sun rose upon us, disclosing, through purple mists, a hollow of
coarse yellow gravel, based upon a hard whitish clay. About five miles
broad by twelve long, it collects the waters of the high grounds after
rain, and distributes the surplus through an exit towards the
North-west, a gap in the low undulating hills around. Entering it, we
dismounted, prayed, broke our fast, and after half an hour’s halt
proceeded to cross its breadth. The appearance of the Caravan was most
striking, as it threaded its slow way over the smooth surface of the
Khabt (low plain).[FN#8] To judge by the eye, the host was composed of
at fewest seven thousand souls, on foot, on horseback, in litters, or
bestriding the splendid camels of Syria.[FN#9] There were eight
gradations of pilgrims.
[p.65] The lowest hobbled with heavy staves. Then came the riders of
asses, of camels, and of mules. Respectable men, especially Arabs, were
mounted on dromedaries, and the soldiers had horses: a led animal was
saddled for every grandee, ready whenever he might wish to leave his
litter. Women, children, and invalids of the poorer classes sat upon a
“Haml Musattah,”—rugs and cloths spread over the two large boxes which form
the camel’s load.[FN#10] Many occupied Shibriyahs; a few, Shugdufs, and
only the wealthy and the noble rode in Takht-rawan (litters), carried
by camels or mules.[FN#11] The morning beams fell brightly upon the
glancing arms which surrounded the stripped Mahmil,[FN#12] and upon the
scarlet and gilt conveyances of the grandees. Not the least beauty of
the spectacle was its wondrous variety of detail: no man was dressed
like his neighbour, no camel was caparisoned, no horse was
[p.66] clothed in uniform, as it were. And nothing stranger than the
contrasts; a band of half-naked Takruri marching with the Pasha’s
equipage, and long-capped, bearded Persians conversing with Tarbush’d and
shaven Turks.
The plain even at an early hour reeked with vapours distilled by the
fires of the Samum: about noon, however, the air became cloudy, and
nothing of colour remained, save that milky white haze, dull, but
glaring withal, which is the prevailing day-tint in these regions. At
mid-day we reached a narrowing of the basin, where, from both sides, “Irk,”
or low hills, stretch their last spurs into the plain. But after half a
mile, it again widened to upwards of two miles. At two P.M. (Friday,
Sept. 2), we turned towards the South-west, ascended stony ground, and
found ourselves one hour afterwards in a desolate rocky flat, distant
about twenty-four miles of unusually winding road from our last
station. “Mahattah Ghurab,[FN#13]” or the Raven’s Station, lies 10° south-west
from Ja al-Sharifah, in the irregular masses of hill on the frontier of
Al-Hijaz, where the highlands of Nijd begin.
After pitching the tent, we prepared to recruit our supply of water;
for Mas’ud warned me that his camels had not drunk for ninety hours, and
that they would soon sink under the privation. The boy Mohammed,
mounting a dromedary, set off with the Shaykh and many water-bags,
giving me an opportunity of writing out my journal. They did not return
home until after nightfall, a delay caused by many adventures. The
wells are in a Fiumara, as usual, about two miles distant from the
halting-place, and the soldiers, regular as well as irregular, occupied
the water and exacted hard coin in exchange for it. The men are not to
blame; they would die of starvation but for this resource. The boy
Mohammed had been engaged in several quarrels; but after
[p.67] snapping his pistol at a Persian pilgrim’s head, he came forth
triumphant with two skins of sweetish water, for which we paid ten
piastres. He was in his glory. There were many Meccans in the Caravan,
among them his elder brother and several friends: the Sharif Zayd had
sent, he said, to ask why he did not travel with his compatriots. That
evening he drank so copiously of clarified butter, and ate dates mashed
with flour and other abominations to such an extent, that at night he
prepared to give up the ghost.
We passed a pleasant hour or two before sleeping. I began to like the
old Shaykh Mas’ud, who, seeing it, entertained me with his genealogy, his
battles, and his family affairs. The rest of the party could not
prevent expressing contempt when they heard me putting frequent
questions about torrents, hills, Badawin, and the directions of places.
“Let the Father of Moustachios ask and learn,” said the old man; “he is
friendly with the Badawin,[FN#14] and knows better than you all.” This
reproof was intended to be bitter as the poet’s satire,—
“All fools have still an itching to deride,
And fain would be upon the laughing side.”
It called forth, however[,] another burst of merriment, for the jeerers
remembered my nickname to have belonged to that pestilent heretic, Sa’ud
the Wahhabi.
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