I Bade
A Long Farewell To All My Friends, Embraced The Turkish Pilgrims, And
Mounting Our Donkeys, The Boy Mohammed And I Left The House.
Abdullah
the Melancholy followed us on foot through the city, and took leave of
me, though without embracing, at the Shabayki quarter.
Issuing into the open plain, I felt a thrill of pleasure—such joy as only
the captive delivered from his dungeon can experience. The sunbeams
warmed me into renewed life and vigour, the air of the Desert was a
perfume, and the homely face of Nature was as the smile of a dear old
friend. I contemplated the Syrian Caravan, lying on the right of our
road, without any of the sadness usually suggested by a parting look.
It is not my intention minutely to describe the line down which we
travelled that night: the pages of Burckhardt give full information
about the country. Leaving Meccah, we fell into the direct road running
south of Wady Fatimah, and traversed for about an hour a flat
surrounded by hills. Then we entered a valley by a flight of rough
stone steps, dangerously slippery and zigzag, intended to facilitate
the descent for camels and for laden beasts. About midnight we passed
into a hill-girt Wady, here covered with deep sands, there hard with
[p.261] gravelly clay: and, finally, about dawn, we sighted the
maritime plain of Jeddah.
Shortly after leaving the city, our party was joined by other
travellers, and towards evening we found ourselves in force, the effect
of an order that pilgrims must not proceed singly upon this road.
Coffee-houses and places of refreshment abounding, we halted every five
miles to refresh ourselves and the donkeys.[FN#3] At sunset we prayed
near a Turkish guard-house, where one of the soldiers kindly supplied
me with water for ablution.
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