Though
Past Sixty, Very Decrepit, Bent By Age, White-Bearded, And Toothless,
He Still Acted Cicerone To Pilgrims, And For That Purpose Travelled
Once Every Year To Al-Madinah.
These trips had given him the cunning of
a veteran voyageur.
He lived well and cheaply; his home-made Shugduf,
the model of comfort, was garnished with soft cushions and pillows,
whilst from the pockets protruded select bottles of pickled limes and
similar luxuries; he had his travelling Shishah (water-pipe),[FN#2] and
at the halting-place, disdaining the crowded, reeking tent, he had a
contrivance for converting his vehicle into a habitation. He was a type
of the Arab old man. He mumbled all day and three-quarters of the
night, for he had des insomnies. His nerves were so fine, that if any
[p.126] one mounted his Shugduf, the unfortunate was condemned to lie
like a statue. Fidgety and priggishly neat, nothing annoyed him so much
as a moment’s delay or an article out of place, a rag removed from his
water-gugglet, or a cooking-pot imperfectly free from soot; and I
judged his avarice by observing that he made a point of picking up and
eating the grains scattered from our pomegranates, exclaiming that the
heavenly seed (located there by Arab superstition) might be one of
those so wantonly wasted.
Ali bin Ya Sin, returning to his native city, had not been happy in his
choice of a companion this time. The other occupant of the handsome
Shugduf was an ignoble-faced Egyptian from Al-Madinah. This ill-suited
pair clave together for awhile, but at Al-Suwayrkiyah some dispute
about a copper coin made them permanent foes. With threats and abuse
such as none but an Egyptian could tamely hear, Ali kicked his quondam
friend out of the vehicle. But terrified, after reflection, by the
possibility that the man, now his enemy, might combine with two or
three Syrians of our party to do him a harm, and frightened by a few
black looks, the senior determined to fortify himself by a friend.
Connected with the boy Mohammed’s family, he easily obtained an
introduction to me; he kissed my hand with great servility, declared
that his servant had behaved disgracefully; and begged my protection
together with an occasional attendance of my “slave.”
This was readily granted in pity for the old man, who became immensely
grateful. He offered at once to take Shaykh Nur into his Shugduf. The
Indian boy had already reduced to ruins the frail structure of his
Shibriyah by lying upon it lengthways, whereas prudent travellers sit
in it cross-legged and facing the camel. Moreover, he had been laughed
to scorn by the Badawin, who seeing him pull up his dromedary to mount
and dismount, had questioned his sex, and determined him to be
[p.127] a woman of the “Miyan.[FN#3]” I could not rebuke them; the poor
fellow’s timidity was a ridiculous contrast to the Badawi’s style of
mounting; a pull at the camel’s head, the left foot placed on the neck,
an agile spring, and a scramble into the saddle. Shaykh Nur, elated by
the sight of old Ali’s luxuries, promised himself some joyous hours; but
next morning he owned with a sigh that he had purchased splendour at
the extravagant price of happiness—the senior’s tongue never rested
throughout the livelong night.
During our half-halt at Al-Suwayrkiyah we determined to have a small
feast; we bought some fresh dates, and we paid a dollar and a half for
a sheep. Hungry travellers consider “liver and fry” a dish to set before a
Shaykh. On this occasion, however, our enjoyment was marred by the
water; even Soyer’s dinners would scarcely charm if washed down with cups
of a certain mineral-spring found at Epsom.
We started at ten A.M. (Monday, 5th September) in a South-Easterly
direction, and travelled over a flat, thinly dotted with Desert
vegetation. At one P.M we passed a basaltic ridge; and then, entering a
long depressed line of country, a kind of valley, paced down it five
tedious hours. The Samum as usual was blowing hard, and it seemed to
affect the travellers’ tempers. In one place I saw a Turk, who could not
speak a word of Arabic, violently disputing with an Arab who could not
understand a word of Turkish. The pilgrim insisted upon adding to the
camel’s load a few dry sticks, such as are picked up for cooking. The
camel-man as perseveringly threw off the extra burthen. They screamed
with rage, hustled each other, and at last the Turk dealt the Arab a
heavy blow. I afterwards heard that the pilgrim was mortally wounded
that night, his stomach being ripped
[p.128] open with a dagger. On enquiring what had become of him, I was
assured that he had been comfortably wrapped up in his shroud, and
placed in a half-dug grave. This is the general practice in the case of
the poor and solitary, whom illness or accident incapacitates from
proceeding. It is impossible to contemplate such a fate without horror:
the torturing thirst of a wound,[FN#4] the burning sun heating the
brain to madness, and—worst of all, for they do not wait till death—the
attacks of the jackal, the vulture, and the raven of the wild.
At six P.M., before the light of day had faded, we traversed a rough
and troublesome ridge. Descending it our course lay in a southerly
direction along a road flanked on the left by low hills of red
sandstone and bright porphyry. About an hour afterwards we came to a
basalt field, through whose blocks we threaded our way painfully and
slowly, for it was then dark. At eight P.M. the camels began to stumble
over the dwarf dykes of the wheat and barley fields, and presently we
arrived at our halting-place, a large village called Al-Sufayna.
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