[p.150]how soft and how beautiful!-even though the Wady al-Ward (the
Vale of Flowers) be the name of some stern flat upon which a handful of
wild shrubs blossom while struggling through a cold season's ephemeral
existence. In such circumstances the mind is influenced through the
body. Though your mouth glows, and your skin is parched, yet you feel
no languor, the effect of humid heat; your lungs are lightened, your
sight brightens, your memory recovers its tone, and your spirits become
exuberant; your fancy and imagination are powerfully aroused, and the
wildness and sublimity of the scenes around you stir up all the
energies of your soul-whether for exertion, danger, or strife. Your
morale improves; you become frank and cordial, hospitable and
single-minded: the hypocritical politeness and the slavery of
civilisation are left behind you in the city. Your senses are
quickened: they require no stimulants but air and exercise,-in the
Desert spirituous liquors excite only disgust. There is a keen
enjoyment in mere animal existence. The sharp appetite disposes of the
most indigestible food;
[p.151]the sand is softer than a bed of down, and the purity of the air
suddenly puts to flight a dire cohort of diseases. Hence it is that
both sexes, and every age, the most material as well as the most
imaginative of minds, the tamest citizen, the parson, the old maid, the
peaceful student, the spoiled child of civilisation, all feel their
hearts dilate, and their pulses beat strong, as they look down from
their dromedaries upon the glorious Desert. Where do we hear of a
traveller being disappointed by it? It is another illustration of the
ancient truth that Nature returns to man, however unworthily he has
treated her. And believe me, when once your tastes have conformed to
the tranquillity of such travel, you will suffer real pain in returning
to the turmoil of civilisation. You will anticipate the bustle and the
confusion of artificial life, its luxury and its false pleasures, with
repugnance. Depressed in spirits, you will for a time after your return
feel incapable of mental or bodily exertion. The air of cities will
suffocate you, and the care-worn and cadaverous countenances of
citizens will haunt you like a vision of judgment.[FN#16]
As the black shadow mounted in the Eastern sky,[FN#17] I turned off the
road, and was suddenly saluted by a figure rising from a little hollow
with an "As' Salamu 'alaykum" of truly Arab sound.[FN#18] I looked at
the speaker for a moment without recognising him. He then advanced with
voluble expressions of joy, invited me to sup, seized
[p.152]my camel's halter without waiting for an answer, "nakh'd[FN#19]"
it (i.e. forced it to kneel), led me hurriedly to a carpet spread in a
sandy hollow, pulled off my slippers, gave me cold water for ablution,
told me that he had mistaken me at a distance for a "Sherif" (or
Prince) of the Arabs, but was delighted to find himself in error; and
urged me to hurry over ablution, otherwise that night would come on
before we could say our prayers. It was Mohammed al-Basyuni, the Meccan
boy of whom I had bought my pilgrim-garb at Cairo. There I had refused
his companionship, but here for reasons of his own-one of them was an
utter want of money,- he would take no excuse. When he prayed, he stood
behind me,[FN#20] thereby proving pliancy of conscience, for he
suspected me from the first of being at least a heretic.
After prayer he lighted a pipe, and immediately placed the snake-like
tube in my hand; this is an argument which the tired traveller can
rarely resist. He then began to rummage my saddle-bags; he drew forth
stores of provisions, rolls, water-melons, boiled eggs, and dates, and
whilst lighting the fire and boiling the coffee, he managed to
distribute his own stock, which was neither plentiful nor first-rate,
to the camel-men. Shaykh Nassar and his brother looked aghast at this
movement, but the boy was inexorable. They tried a few rough hints,
which he noticed by singing a Hindustani couplet that asserts the
impropriety of anointing rats' heads with jasmine oil. They suspected
abuse, and waxed cross; he acknowledged this by deriding them. "I have
heard of Nasrs and Nasirs and Mansurs, but may Allah spare me the
[p.153]mortification of a Nassar!" said the boy, relying upon my
support. And I urged him on, wanting to see how the city Arab treats
the countryman. He then took my tobacco-pouch from the angry Badawin,
and in a stage-whisper reproved me for entrusting it to such thieves;
insisting, at the same time, upon drinking all the coffee, so that the
poor guides had to prepare some for themselves. He improved every
opportunity of making mischief. "We have eaten water-melon!" cried
Nassar, patting its receptacle in token of repletion. "Dost thou hear,
my lord, how they grumble?-the impudent ruffians!" remarked
Mohammed-"We have eaten water-melon! that is to say, we ought to have
eaten meat!" The Badawin, completely out of temper, told him not to
trust himself among their hills. He seized a sword, and began capering
about after the fashion of the East-Indian school of arms, and boasted
that he would attack single-handed the whole clan, which elicited an
ironical "Allah! Allah!" from the hearers.
After an hour most amusingly spent in this way, I arose, and insisted
upon mounting, much to the dissatisfaction of my guides, who wished to
sleep there. Shaykh Nassar and his brother had reckoned upon living
gratis, for at least three days, judging it improbable that a soft
Effendi would hurry himself. When they saw the fair vision dissolve,
they began to finesse: they induced the camel-man, who ran by the side
of Mohammed's dromedary, to precede the animal-a favourite manoeuvre to
prevent overspeed. Ordered to fall back, the man pleaded fatigue, and
inability to walk. The boy Mohammed immediately asked if I had any
objection to dismount one of my guides, and to let his weary attendant
ride for an hour or so. I at once assented, and the Badawin obeyed me
with ominous grumblings. When we resumed our march the melancholy Arabs
had no song left in them; whereas Mohammed chaunted vociferously, and
quoted
[p.154]bad Hindustani and worse Persian till silence was forcibly
imposed upon him. The camel-men lagged behind, in order to prevent my
dromedary advancing too fast, and the boy's guide, after dismounting,
would stride along in front of us, under pretext of showing the way.
And so we jogged on, now walking, then trotting, till the dromedaries
began to grunt with fatigue, and the Arabs clamoured for a halt.
At midnight we reached the Central Station, and lay down under its
walls to take a little rest. The dews fell heavily, wetting the sheets
that covered us; but who cares for such trifles in the Desert? The moon
shone bright;[FN#21] the breeze blew coolly, and the jackal sang a
lullaby which lost no time in inducing the soundest sleep. As the
Wolf's Tail[FN#22] showed in the heavens we arose. Grey mists floating
over the hills northwards gave the Dar al-Bayda,[FN#23] the Pasha's
Palace, the look of some old feudal castle. There was a haze in the
atmosphere, which beautified even the face of Desolation. The swift
flying Kata[FN#24] sprang in noisy coveys from the road, and a stray
gazelle paced daintily over the stony plain. As we passed by the
Pilgrims' tree, I
[p.155]added another rag to its coat of tatters.[FN#25] We then invoked
the aid of the holy saint Al-Dakruri[FN#26] from his cream-coloured
abode, mounted our camels, and resumed the march in real earnest. The
dawn passed away in its delicious coolness, and sultry morning came on.
Then day glared in its fierceness, and the noontide sun made the plain
glow with terrible heat. Still we pressed onwards.
At 3 P.M. we turned off the road into a dry water-course, which is not
far from No. 13 Station. The sand was dotted with the dried-up leaves
of the Datura, and strongly perfumed by "Shih," a kind of Absinthe
(Artemisia),[FN#27] the sweetest herb of the Desert. A Mimosa was
there, and although its shade at this season is little better than
[p.156]a cocoa tree's,[FN#28] the Badawin would not neglect it. We lay
down upon the sand, to rest among a party of Maghrabi pilgrims
travelling to Suez. These wretches, who were about a dozen in number,
appeared to be of the lowest class; their garments consisted of a
Burnus-cloak and a pair of sandals; their sole weapon a long knife, and
their only stock a bag of dry provisions. Each had his large wooden
bowl, but none carried water with him. It was impossible to help
pitying their state, nor could I eat, seeing them hungry, thirsty, and
way-worn. So Nassar served out about a pint of water and a little bread
to each man. Then they asked for more. None was to be had, so they
cried out that money would do as well. I had determined upon being
generous to the extent of a few pence. Custom, as well as inclination,
was in favour of the act; but when the alms became a demand, and the
demand was backed by fierce looks and a derisive sneer, and a kind of
reference to their knives, gentle Charity took the alarm and fled. My
pistols kept them at bay, for they were only making an attempt to
intimidate, and, though I took the precaution of sitting apart from
them, there was no real danger. The Suez road, by the wise regulations
of Mohammed Ali, has become as safe to European travellers as that
between Hampstead and Highgate; and even Easterns have little to fear
but what their fears create. My Indian servant was full of the dangers
he had run, but I did not believe in them. I afterwards heard that the
place where the Maghrabis attempted to frighten what they thought a
timid Turk was notorious for plunder and murder. Here the spurs of two
opposite hills almost meet upon the plain, a favourable ground for
Badawi ambuscade. Of the Maghrabis
[p.157]I shall have more to say when relating my voyage in the Pilgrim
Ship: they were the only travellers from whom we experienced the least
annoyance. Numerous parties of Turks, Arabs, and Afghans, and a few
East-Indians[FN#29] were on the same errand as ourselves. All, as we
passed them, welcomed us with the friendly salutation that becomes men
engaged in a labour of religion.
About half an hour before sunset, I turned off the road leftwards; and,
under pretext of watering the dromedaries, rode up to inspect the fort
Al-'Ajrudi.[FN#30] It is a quadrangle with round towers at the gateway
and at the corners, newly built of stone and mortar; the material is
already full of crevices, and would not stand before a twelve-pounder.
Without guns or gunners, it is occupied by about a dozen Fellahs, who
act as hereditary "Ghafirs," (guardians); they were expecting at that
time to be reinforced by a party of Bashi Buzuks-Irregulars from Cairo.
The people of the country were determined that an English fleet would
soon appear in the Red Sea, and this fort is by them ridiculously
considered the key of Suez. As usual in these Vauban-lacking
[p.158]lands, the well supplying the stronghold is in a detached and
distant building, which can be approached by an enemy with the greatest
security. Over the gate-way was an ancient inscription reversed; the
water was brackish, and of bad quality.[FN#31]
We resumed our way: Suez now stood near. In the blue distance rose the
castellated peaks of Jabal Rahah and the wide sand-tracts over which
lies the land-route to Al-Hijaz. Before us the sight ever dear to
English eyes,-a strip of sea gloriously azure, with a gallant steamer
walking the waters. On the right-hand side the broad slopes of Jabal
Mukattam, a range of hills which flanks the road all the way from
Cairo. It was at this hour a spectacle not easily to be forgotten. The
near range of chalk and sandstone wore a russet suit, gilt where the
last rays of the sun seamed it with light, and the deep folds were
shaded with the richest purple; whilst the background of the higher
hills, Jabal Tawari, generally known as Abu Daraj (the Father of
Steps), was sky-blue streaked with the lightest plum colour. We drew up
at a small building called Bir Suways (Well of Suez); and, under
pretext of watering the cattle, I sat for half an hour admiring the
charms of the Desert. The eye never tires of such loveliness of hue,
and the memory of the hideousness of this range, when a sun in front
exposed each gaunt and barren feature, supplied the evening view with
another element of attraction.
It was already night when we passed through the tumbling six-windowed
gateway of Suez; and still remained the task of finding my servant and
effects. After
[p.159]wandering in and out of every Wakalah in the village, during
which peregrination the boy Mohammed proved himself so useful that I
determined at all risks to make him my companion, we accidentally heard
that a Hindi had taken lodgings at a hostelry bearing the name of
Jirjis al-Zahr.[FN#32] On arriving there our satisfaction was
diminished by the intelligence that the same Hindi, after locking the
door, had gone out with his friends to a ship in the harbour; in fact,
that he had made all preparations for running away. I dismounted, and
tried to persuade the porter to break open the wooden bolt, but he
absolutely refused, and threatened the police. Meanwhile Mohammed had
found a party of friends, men of Al-Madinah, returning to the
pilgrimage after a begging tour through Egypt and Turkey. The meeting
was characterised by vociferous inquiries, loud guffaws and warm
embraces. I was invited to share their supper and their dormitory,-an
uncovered platform projecting from the gallery over the square court
below,-but I had neither appetite nor spirits enough to be sociable.
The porter, after much persuasion, showed me an empty room, in which I
spread my carpet. That was a sad night. My eighty-four mile ride had
made every bone ache; I had lost epidermis, and the sun had seared
every portion of skin exposed to it. So, lamenting my degeneracy and
the ill effects of four years' domicile in Europe, and equally
disquieted in mind about the fate of my goods and chattels, I fell into
an uncomfortable sleep.
[FN#l] The proper hire of a return dromedary from Cairo to Suez is
forty piastres. But every man is charged in proportion to his rank, and
Europeans generally pay about double.
[FN#2] The tender traveller had better provide himself with a pair of
stirrups, but he will often find, when on camel back, that his legs are
more numbed by hanging down, than by the Arab way of crossing them
before and beneath the pommel. He must, however, be careful to inspect
his saddle, and, should bars of wood not suit him, to have them covered
with stuffed leather. And again, for my part, I would prefer riding a
camel with a nose-ring,-Mongol and Sindian fashion,-to holding him, as
the Egyptians do, with a halter, or to guiding him,-Wahhabiwise,-with a
stick.
[FN#3] "O pilgrim!" The Egyptians write the word Hajj, and pronounce
Hagg. In Persia, India, and Turkey, it becomes Haji. These are mere
varieties of form, derived from one and the same Arabic root.
[FN#4] The Egyptians and Arabs will not address "Salam" to an infidel;
the Moslems of India have no such objection. This, on the banks of the
Nile, is the revival of an old prejudice. Alexander of Alexandria, in
his circular letter, describes the Arian heretics as "men whom it is
not lawful to salute, or to bid God-speed."
[FN#5] It is Prince Puckler Muskau, if I recollect rightly, who
mentions that in his case a pair of dark spectacles produced a marked
difference of apparent temperature, whilst travelling over the sultry
sand of the Desert. I have often remarked the same phenomenon. The
Arabs, doubtless for some reason of the kind, always draw their
head-kerchiefs, like hoods, far over their brows, and cover up their
mouths, even when the sun and wind are behind them. Inhabitants of the
Desert are to be recognised by the net-work of wrinkles traced in the
skin round the orbits, the result of half-closing their eyelids; but
this is done to temper the intensity of the light.
[FN#6] Their own pipe-tubes were of coarse wood, in shape somewhat
resembling the German porcelain pipe. The bowl was of soft stone,
apparently steatite, which, when fresh, is easily fashioned with a
knife. In Arabia the Badawin, and even the townspeople, use on journeys
an earthen tube from five to six inches shorter than the English
"clay," thicker in the tube, with a large bowl, and coloured
yellowish-red. It contains a handful of tobacco, and the smoker emits
puffs like a chimney. In some of these articles the bowl forms a
rectangle with the tube; in others, the whole is an unbroken curve,
like the old Turkish Meerschaum.
[FN#7] See Wallin's papers, published in the Journals of the Royal
Geographical Society.
[FN#8] Shurum, (plural of Sharm, a creek), a word prefixed to the
proper names of three small ports in the Sinaitic peninsula.
[FN#9] Tawarah, plural of Turi, an inhabitant of Tur or Sinai.
[FN#10] This feature did not escape the practised eye of Denon. "Eyes
long, almond-shaped, half shut, and languishing, and turned up at the
outer corner, as if habitually fatigued by the light and heat of the
sun; cheeks round, &c.," (Voyage en Egypt). The learned Frenchman's
description of the ancient Egyptians applies in most points to the Turi
Badawin.
[FN#11] "And he" (Ishmael) "dwelt in the wilderness of Paran," (Wady
Firan?) "and his mother took him a wife, out of the land of Egypt,"
(Gen. xxi. 21). I wonder that some geographers have attempted to
identify Massa, the son of Ishmael, (Gen. xxv. 14), with Meccah, when
in verse 18 of the same chapter we read, "And they" (the twelve
princes, sons of Ishmael) "dwelt from Havilah unto Shur." This asserts,
as clearly as language can, that the posterity of, or the race typified
by, Ishmael,-the Syro-Egyptian,-occupied only the northern parts of the
peninsula. Their habitat is not even included in Arabia by those
writers who bound the country on the north by an imaginary line drawn
from Ras Mohammed to the mouths of the Euphrates. The late Dr. J.
Wilson ("Lands of the Bible"), repeated by Eliot Warburton ("Crescent
and Cross"), lays stress upon the Tawarah tradition, that they are Benu
Isra'il converted to Al-Islam, considering it a fulfilment of the
prophecy, "that a remnant of Israel shall dwell in Edom." With due
deference to so illustrious an Orientalist and Biblical scholar as was
Dr. Wilson, I believe that most modern Moslems, being ignorant that
Jacob was the first called "prince with God," apply the term
Benu-Isra'il to all the posterity of Abraham, not to Jews only.
[FN#12] In 1879 the Gates of Suez are a thing of the past; and it is
not easy to find where they formerly stood.
[FN#13] In the mouth of a Turk, no epithet is more contemptuous than
that of "Fellah ibn Fellah,"-"boor, son of a boor!" The Osmanlis have,
as usual, a semi-religious tradition to account for the superiority of
their nation over the Egyptians. When the learned doctor, Abu Abdullah
Mohammed bin Idris al-Shafe'i, returned from Meccah to the banks of the
Nile, he mounted, it is said, a donkey belonging to one of the Asinarii
of Bulak. Arriving at the Caravanserai, he gave the man ample fare,
whereupon the Egyptian, putting forth his hand, and saying, "hat"
(give!) called for more. The doctor doubled the fee; still the double
was demanded. At last the divine's purse was exhausted, and the
proprietor of the donkey waxed insolent. A wandering Turk seeing this,
took all the money from the Egyptian, paid him his due, solemnly kicked
him, and returned the rest to Al-Shafe'i, who asked him his
name-"Osman"-and his nation-the "Osmanli,"-blessed him, and prophesied
to his countrymen supremacy over the Fellahs and donkey boys of Egypt.
[FN#14] From Samm, the poison-wind. Vulgar and most erroneously called
the Simoon.
[FN#15] Hugh Murray derives this word from the Egyptian, and quoting
Strabo and Abulfeda makes it synonymous with Auasis and Hyasis. I
believe it to be a mere corruption of the Arabic Wady [Arabic text] or
Wah. Nothing can be more incorrect than the vulgar idea of an Arabian
Oasis, except it be the popular conception of an Arabian Desert. One
reads of "isles of the sandy sea," but one never sees them. The real
"Wady" is, generally speaking, a rocky valley bisected by the bed of a
mountain torrent, dry during the hot season. In such places the Badawin
love to encamp, because they find food and drink,-water being always
procurable by digging. When the supply is perennial, the Wady becomes
the site of a village. The Desert is as unaptly compared to a "sandy
sea." Most of the wilds of Arabia resemble the tract between Suez and
Cairo; only the former are of primary formation, whereas the others are
of a later date. Sand-heaps are found in every Desert, but sand-plains
are a local feature, not the general face of the country. The
Wilderness, east of the Nile, is mostly a hard dry earth, which
requires only a monsoon to become highly productive: even where
silicious sand covers the plain, the waters of a torrent, depositing
humus or vegetable mould, bind the particles together, and fit it for
the reception of seed.
[FN#16] The intelligent reader will easily understand that I am
speaking of the Desert in the temperate season, not during the summer
heats, when the whole is one vast furnace, nor in winter, when the
Sarsar wind cuts like an Italian Tramontana.
[FN#17] This, as a general rule in Al-Islam, is a sign that the Maghrib
or evening prayer must not be delayed. The Shafe'i school performs its
devotions immediately after the sun has disappeared.
[FN#18] This salutation of peace is so differently pronounced by every
Eastern nation that the observing traveller will easily make of it a
shibboleth.
[FN#19] To "nakh" in vulgar, as in classical, Arabic is to gurgle "Ikh!
ikh!" in the bottom of one's throat till the camel kneels down. We have
no English word for this proceeding; but Anglo-Oriental travellers are
rapidly naturalising the "nakh."
[FN#20] There are many qualifications necessary for an Imam-a leader of
prayer; the first condition, of course, is orthodoxy.
[FN#21] "The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night,"
(Psalm cxxi. 6). Easterns still believe firmly in the evil effects of
moonlight upon the human frame,-from Sind to Abyssinia, the traveller
will hear tales of wonder concerning it.
[FN#22] The Dum i Gurg, or wolf's tail, is the Persian name for the
first brushes of grey light which appear as forerunners of dawn.
[FN#23] Dar al-Bayda is a palace belonging to H.H. Abbas Pasha. This
"white house" was formerly called the "red house," I believe from the
colour of its windows,-but the name was changed, as being not
particularly good-omened.
[FN#24] The Tetrao Kata or sand-grouse, (Pterocles melanogaster; in
Sind called the rock pigeon), is a fast-flying bird, not unlike a grey
partridge whilst upon the wing. When, therefore, Shanfara boasts "The
ash-coloured Katas can only drink my leavings, after hastening all
night to slake their thirst in the morning," it is a hyperbole to
express exceeding swiftness.
[FN#25] I have already, when writing upon the subject of Sind, alluded
to this system as prevalent throughout Al-Islam, and professed, like
Mr. Lane, ignorance of its origin and object. In Huc's travels, we are
told that the Tartars worship mountain spirits by raising an "Obo,"-dry
branches hung with bones and strips of cloth, and planted in enormous
heaps of stones. Park, also, in Western Africa, conformed to the
example of his companions, in adding a charm or shred of cloth on a
tree (at the entrance of the Wilderness), which was completely covered
with these guardian symbols. And, finally, the Tarikh Tabari mentions
it as a practice of the Pagan Arabs, and talks of evil spirits residing
in the date-tree. May not, then, the practice in Al-Islam be one of the
many debris of fetish-worship which entered into the heterogeneous
formation of the Saving Faith? Some believe that the Prophet permitted
the practice, and explain the peculiar name of the expedition called
Zat al-Rika'a (place of shreds of cloth), by supposing it to be a term
for a tree to which the Moslems hung their ex-voto rags.
[FN#26] The saint lies under a little white-washed dome, springing from
a square of low walls-a form of sepulchre now common to Al-Hijaz,
Egypt, and the shores and islands of the Red Sea. As regards his name
my informants told me it was that of a Hijazi Shaykh. The subject is by
no means interesting; but the exact traveller will find the word
written Takroore, and otherwise explained by Sir Gardner Wilkinson.
[FN#27] Called by the Arabs Shih [Arabic text], which the dictionaries
translate "wormwood of Pontus." We find Wallin in his works speaking of
Ferashat al-shih, or wormwood carpets.
[FN#28] We are told in verse of "a cocoa's feathery shade," and sous
l'ombre d'un cocotier. But to realise the prose picture, let the home
reader, choosing some sultry August day, fasten a large fan to a long
pole, and enjoy himself under it.
[FN#29] On a subsequent occasion, I met a party of Panjabis, who had
walked from Meccah to Cairo in search of "Abu Tabilah," (General
Avitabile), whom report had led to the banks of the Nile. Some were
young, others had white beards-all were weary and wayworn; but the
saddest sight was an old woman, so decrepit that she could scarcely
walk. The poor fellows were travelling on foot, carrying their wallets,
with a few pence in their pockets, utterly ignorant of route and road,
and actually determined in this plight to make Lahore by Baghdad,
Bushir, and Karachi. Such-so incredible-is Indian improvidence!
[FN#30] Upon this word Cacography has done her worst-"Haji Rood" may
serve for a specimen. My informants told me that Al-'Ajrudi is the name
of a Hijazi Shaykh whose mortal remains repose under a little dome near
the fort. This, if it be true, completely nullifies the efforts of
Etymology to discern in it a distinct allusion to "the overthrow of
Pharaoh's chariots, whose Hebrew appellation, ‘Ageloot,' bears some
resemblance to this modern name."
[FN#31] The only sweet water in Suez is brought on camel back from the
Nile, across the Desert. The "Bir Suez" is fit for beasts only; the
'Uyun Musa (Moses' Wells) on the Eastern side, and that below Abu
Daraj, on the Western shore of the Suez Gulf, are but little better.
The want of sweet water is the reason why no Hammam is found at Suez.
[FN#32] The "George": so called after its owner, a Copt, Consular Agent
for Belgium. There are 36 Caravanserais at Suez, 33 small ones for
merchandise, and 3 for travellers; of these the best is that of Sayyid
Hashim. The pilgrim, however, must not expect much comfort or
convenience, even at Sayyid Hashim's.
[p.160]CHAPTER IX.