FOUR roads lead from Al-Madinah to Meccah. The [“]Darb al-Sultani,” or
“Sultan’s Highway,” follows the line of coast: this general passage has been
minutely described by my exact predecessor. The “Tarik al-Ghabir,” a
mountain path, is avoided by the Mahmil and the great Caravans on
account of its rugged passes; water abounds along the whole line, but
there is not a single village and the Sobh Badawin, who own the soil[,]
are inveterate plunderers. The route called “Wady al-Kura” is a favourite
with Dromedary Caravans; on this road are two or three small
settlements, regular wells, and free passage through the Benu Amr
tribe. The Darb al-Sharki, or “Eastern road,” down which I travelled, owes
its existence to the piety of the Lady Zubaydah, wife of Harun
al-Rashid. That munificent princess dug wells from Baghdad to
Al-Madinah, and built, we are told, a wall to direct pilgrims over the
shifting sands.[FN#1] There is a fifth road, or rather mountain path,
concerning which I can give no information.
At eight A.M. on Wednesday, the 26th Zu’l Ka’adah
[p.59] (31st August, 1853), as we were sitting at the window of Hamid’s
house after our early meal, suddenly appeared, in hottest haste, Mas’ud,
our Camel-Shaykh. He was accompanied by his son, a bold boy about
fourteen years of age, who fought sturdily about the weight of each
package as it was thrown over the camel’s back; and his nephew, an ugly
pock-marked lad, too lazy even to quarrel. We were ordered to lose no
time in loading; all started into activity, and at nine A.M. I found
myself standing opposite the Egyptian Gate, surrounded by my friends,
who had accompanied me thus far on foot, to take leave with due honour.
After affectionate embraces and parting mementoes, we mounted, the boy
Mohammed and I in the litter, and Shaykh Nur in his cot. Then in
company with some Turks and Meccans, for Mas’ud owned a string of nine
camels, we passed through the little gate near the castle, and shaped
our course towards the North. On our right lay the palm-groves, which
conceal this part of the city; far to the left rose the domes of Hamzah’s
Mosques at the foot of Mount Ohod; and in front a band of road, crowded
with motley groups, stretched over a barren stony plain.
After an hour’s slow march, bending gradually from North to North-East,
we fell into the Nijd highway, and came to a place of renown called
Al-Ghadir, or the Basin.[FN#2] This is a depression conducting the
drainage of the plain towards the northern hills. The skirts of Ohod
still limited the prospect to the left. On the right was the Bir Rashid
(Well of Rashid), and the little whitewashed dome of Ali al-Urays, a
descendant from Zayn al-Abidin:—the tomb is still a place of Visitation.
There we halted and turned to take farewell of the Holy City.
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