[P.193] of tent and stone, we ascended the broad flight of rugged steps
which winds up the southern face of the rocky hill. Even at this early
hour it was crowded with pilgrims, principally Badawin and Wahhabis,
who had secured favourable positions for hearing the sermon. Already
their green flag was planted upon the summit close to Adam’s Place of
Prayer. The wilder Arabs insist that “Wukuf” (standing) should take place
upon the Hill. This is not done by the more civilised, who hold that
all the plain within the Alamayn ranks as Arafat. According to Ali Bey,
the Maliki school is not allowed to stand upon the mountain. About half
way up I counted sixty-six steps, and remarked that they became
narrower and steeper. Crowds of beggars instantly seized the pilgrims’
robes, and strove to prevent our entering a second enclosure. This
place, which resembles the former, except that it has but one
compartment and no boulders, is that whence Mohammed used to address
his followers; and here, to the present day, the Khatib, or preacher,
in imitation of the “Last of the Prophets,” sitting upon a dromedary,
recites the Arafat sermon. Here, also, we prayed a two-bow prayer, and
gave a small sum to the guardian.
Thence ascending with increased difficulty to the hill-top, we arrived
at a large stuccoed platform,[FN#2] with prayer-niche and a kind of
obelisk, mean and badly built of lime and granite stone, whitewashed,
and conspicuous from afar. It is called the Makam, or Mada’a Sayyidna
Adam.[FN#3] Here we performed the customary ceremonies amongst a crowd
of pilgrims, and then we walked down the little hill.
[p.194] Close to the plain we saw the place where the Egyptian and
Damascus Mahmils stand during the sermon; and, descending the wall that
surrounds Arafat by a steep and narrow flight of coarse stone steps, we
found on our right the fountain which supplies the place with water. It
bubbles from the rock, and is exceedingly pure, as such water generally
is in Al-Hijaz.
Our excursion employed us longer than the description requires—nine o’clock
had struck before we reached the plain. All were in a state of
excitement. Guns fired incessantly. Horsemen and camel-riders galloped
about without apparent object. Even the women and the children stood
and walked, too restless even to sleep. Arrived at the tent, I was
unpleasantly surprised to find a new visitor in an old acquaintance,
Ali ibn Ya Sin the Zemzemi. He had lost his mule, and, wandering in
search of its keepers, he unfortunately fell in with our party. I had
solid reasons to regret the mishap—he was far too curious and too
observant to suit my tastes. On the present occasion, he, being
uncomfortable, made us equally so. Accustomed to all the terrible
“neatness” of an elderly damsel in Great Britain, a few specks of dirt upon
the rugs, and half a dozen bits of cinder upon the ground, sufficed to
give him attacks of “nerves.”
That day we breakfasted late, for night must come before we could eat
again. After mid-day prayer we performed ablutions; some the greater,
others the less, in preparation for the “Wukuf,” or Standing. From noon
onwards the hum and murmur of the multitude increased, and people were
seen swarming about in all directions.
A second discharge of cannon (at about 3.15 P.M.) announced the
approach of Al-Asr, the afternoon prayer, and almost immediately we
heard the Naubat, or band preceding the Sharif’s procession, as he wended
his way towards the mountain. Fortunately my tent was pitched close to
the road, so that without trouble I had a perfect
[p.195] view of the scene. First swept a cloud of mace-bearers, who, as
usual on such occasions, cleared the path with scant ceremony. They
were followed by the horsemen of the Desert, wielding long and tufted
spears. Immediately behind them came the Sharif’s led horses, upon which
I fixed a curious eye. All were highly bred, and one, a brown Nijdi
with black points, struck me as the perfection of an Arab. They were
small, and all were apparently of the northern race.[FN#4] Of their old
crimson-velvet
[p.196] caparisons the less said the better; no little Indian Nawab
would show aught so shabby on state occasions.
After the chargers paraded a band of black slaves on foot bearing huge
matchlocks; and immediately preceded by three green and two red flags,
came the Sharif, riding in front of his family and courtiers. The
prince, habited in a simple white Ihram, and bare-headed, mounted a
mule; the only sign of his rank was a large green and gold embroidered
umbrella, held over him by a slave. The rear was brought up by another
troop of Badawin on horses and camels. Behind this procession were the
tents, whose doors and walls were scarcely visible for the crowd; and
the picturesque background was the granite hill, covered, wherever
standing-room was to be found, with white-robed pilgrims shouting
“Labbayk,” and waving the skirts of their glistening garments violently
over their heads.
Slowly and solemnly the procession advanced towards the hill. Exactly
at the hour Al-Asr, the two Mahmils had taken their station side by
side on a platform in the lower slope. That of Damascus could be
distinguished as the narrower and the more ornamented of the pair. The
Sharif placed himself with his standard-bearers and his retinue a
little above the Mahmils, within hearing of the preacher. The pilgrims
crowded up to the foot of the mountain: the loud “Labbayk” of the Badawin
and
[p.197] Wahhabis[FN#5] fell to a solemn silence, and the waving of
white robes ceased—a sign that the preacher had begun the Khutbat
al-Wakfah, or Sermon of the Standing (upon Arafat). From my tent I
could distinguish the form of the old man upon his camel, but the
distance was too great for ear to reach.
