[p.272] together for shelter under the tent. Even Maryam joined us,
loudly informing Ali, her son, that his mother was no longer a woman
but a man; whilst our party generally, cowering away from the fierce
glances of the sun, were either eating or occasionally smoking, or were
occupied in cooling and drinking water. About sunset-time came a report
that we were to start that night. None could believe that such good was
in store for us; before sleeping, however, we placed each camel's pack
apart, so as to be ready for loading at a moment's notice; and we took
care to watch that our Badawin did not drive their animals away to any
distance. At last, about 11 P.M., as the moon was beginning to peep
over the Eastern wall of rock, was heard the glad sound of the little
kettle-drum calling the Albanian troopers to mount and march. In the
shortest possible time all made ready; and, hurriedly crossing the
sandy flat, we found ourselves in company with three or four Caravans,
forming one large body for better defence against the dreaded
Hawamid.[FN#8] By dint of much manoeuvring, arms in hand,-Shaykh Hamid
and the "Demon" took the prominent parts,-we, though the last comers,
managed to secure places about the middle of the line. On such
occasions all push forward recklessly, as an English mob in the strife
of sight-seeing; the rear, being left unguarded, is the place of
danger, and none seeks the honour of occupying it.
We travelled that night up the Fiumara in an Easterly direction, and at
early dawn (July 24th) found ourselves in an ill-famed gorge called
Shuab al-Hajj,[FN#9] the "Pilgrimage Pass." The loudest talkers became
silent as we neared it, and their countenances showed apprehension
written in legible characters. Presently from the high precipitous
[p.273] cliff on our left, thin blue curls of smoke-somehow or other
they caught every eye-rose in the air; and instantly afterwards rang
the sharp cracks of the hillmen's matchlocks, echoed by the rocks on
the right. My Shugduf had been broken by the camel's falling during the
night, so I called out to Mansur that we had better splice the
framework with a bit of rope: he looked up, saw me laughing, and with
an ejaculation of disgust disappeared. A number of Badawin were to be
seen swarming like hornets over the crests of the hills, boys as well
as men carrying huge weapons, and climbing with the agility of cats.
They took up comfortable places on the cut-throat eminence, and began
firing upon us with perfect convenience to themselves. The height of
the hills and the glare of the rising sun prevented my seeing objects
very distinctly, but my companions pointed out to me places where the
rock had been scarped, and where a kind of rough stone breastwork-the
Sangah of Afghanistan-had been piled up as a defence, and a rest for
the long barrel of the matchlock. It was useless to challenge the
Badawin to come down and fight us like men upon the plain; they will do
this on the Eastern coast of Arabia, but rarely, if ever, in Al-Hijaz.
And it was equally unprofitable for our escort to fire upon a foe
ensconced behind stones. Besides which, had a robber been killed, the
whole country would have risen to a man; with a force of 3,000 or
4,000, they might have gained courage to overpower a Caravan, and in
such a case not a soul would have escaped. As it was, the Badawin
directed their fire principally against the Albanians. Some of these
called for assistance to the party of Shaykhs that accompanied us from
Bir Abbas; but the dignified old men, dismounting and squatting in
council round their pipes, came to the conclusion that, as the robbers
would probably turn a deaf ear to their words, they had better spare
themselves the trouble of speaking.
[p.274] We had therefore nothing to do but to blaze away as much
powder, and to veil ourselves in as much smoke, as possible; the result
of the affair was that we lost twelve men, besides camels and other
beasts of burden. Though the bandits showed no symptoms of bravery, and
confined themselves to slaughtering the enemy from their hill-top, my
companions seemed to consider this questionable affair a most gallant
exploit.
After another hour's hurried ride through the Wady Sayyalah, appeared
Shuhada, to which we pushed on,
"Like nighted swain on lonely road,
When close behind fierce goblins tread."
Shuhada is a place which derives its name, "The Martyrs," because here
are supposed to be buried forty braves that fell in one of Mohammed's
many skirmishes. Some authorities consider it the cemetery of the
people of Wady Sayyalah.[FN#10] The once populous valley is now barren,
and one might easily pass by the consecrated spot without observing a
few ruined walls and a cluster of rude Badawin graves, each an oval of
rough stones lying beneath the thorn trees on the left of and a little
off the road. Another half hour took us to a favourite halting-place,
Bir al-Hindi,[FN#11] so called from some forgotten Indian
[p.275] who dug a well there. But we left it behind, wishing to put as
much space as we could between our tents and the nests of the Hamidah.
Then quitting the Fiumara, we struck Northwards into a well-trodden
road running over stony rising ground. The heat became sickening; here,
and in the East generally, at no time is the sun more dangerous than
between eight and nine A.M. Still we hurried on. It was not before
eleven A.M. that we reached our destination, a rugged plain covered
with stones, coarse gravel, and thorn trees in abundance; and
surrounded by inhospitable rocks, pinnacle-shaped, of granite below,
and in the upper parts fine limestone. The well was at least two miles
distant, and not a hovel was in sight; a few Badawi children belonging
to an outcast tribe fed their starveling goats upon the hills. This
place is called "Suwaykah"; it is, I was told, that celebrated in the
history of the Arabs.[FN#12] Yet not for this reason did my comrades
look lovingly upon its horrors: their boxes were safe and with the eye
of imagination they could now behold their homes. That night we must
have travelled about twenty-two miles; the direction of the road was
due East, and the only remarkable feature in the ground was its steady
rise.
[p.276] We pitched the tent under a villainous Mimosa, the tree whose
shade is compared by poetic Badawin to the false friend who deserts you
in your utmost need. I enlivened the hot dull day by a final affair
with Sa'ad the Demon. His alacrity at Yambu' obtained for him the loan
of a couple of dollars: he had bought grain at Al-Hamra, and now we
were near Al-Madinah: still there was not a word about repayment. And
knowing that an Oriental debtor discharges his debt as he pays his
rent, namely, with the greatest unwillingness,-and that, on the other
hand, an Oriental creditor will devote the labour of a year to
recovering a sixpence, I resolved to act as a native of the country,
placed in my position, would; and by dint of sheer dunning and
demanding pledges, to recover my property. About noon Sa'ad the Demon,
after a furious rush, bare-headed, through the burning sun, flung the
two dollars down upon my carpet: however, he presently recovered
temper, and, as subsequent events showed, I had chosen the right part.
Had he not been forced to repay his debt, he would have despised me as
a "freshman," and would have coveted more. As it was, the boy Mohammed
bore the brunt of unpopular feeling, my want of liberality being traced
to his secret and perfidious admonitions. He supported his burden the
more philosophically, because, as he notably calculated, every dollar
saved at Al-Madinah would be spent under his stewardship at Meccah.
At four P.M. (July 24th) we left Suwaykah, all of us in the crossest of
humours, and travelled in a N.E. direction. So "out of temper" were my
companions, that at sunset, of the whole party, Omar Effendi was the
only one who would eat supper. The rest sat upon the ground, pouting,
grumbling, and-they had been allowed to exhaust my stock of
Latakia-smoking Syrian tobacco as if it were a grievance. Such a game
at naughty children, I have seldom seen played even by Oriental men.
The boy Mohammed
[p.277] privily remarked to me that the camel-men's beards were now in
his fist,-meaning that we were out of their kinsmen, the Harb's, reach.
He soon found an opportunity to quarrel with them; and, because one of
his questions was not answered in the shortest possible time, he
proceeded to abuse them in language which sent their hands flying in
the direction of their swords. Despite, however, this threatening
demeanour, the youth, knowing that he now could safely go to any
lengths, continued his ill words, and Mansur's face was so comically
furious, that I felt too much amused to interfere. At last the
camel-men disappeared, thereby punishing us most effectually for our
sport. The road lay up rocky hill and down stony vale; a tripping and
stumbling dromedary had been substituted for the usual monture: the
consequence was that we had either a totter or a tumble once per mile
during the whole of that long night. In vain the now fiery Mohammed
called for the assistance of the camel-men with the full force of his
lungs: "Where be those owls, those oxen of the oxen, those beggars,
those cut-off ones, those foreigners, those Sons of Flight[FN#13]?
withered be their hands! palsied be their fingers! the foul mustachioed
fellows, basest of the Arabs that ever hammered tent-peg, sneaking
cats, goats of Al-Akhfash![FN#14] Truly I will torture them the torture
of the oil,[FN#15] the mines of infamy! the cold of
countenance![FN#16]" The Badawi brotherhood of the camel-men looked at
him wickedly, muttering the while,-"By Allah! and by Allah!
[p.278] and by Allah! O boy, we will flog thee like a hound when we
catch thee in the Desert!" All our party called upon him to desist, but
his temper had got completely the upper hand over his discretion, and
he expressed himself in such classic and idiomatic Hijazi, that I had
not the heart to stop him. Some days after our arrival at Al-Madinah,
Shaykh Hamid warned him seriously never again to go such perilous
lengths, as the Beni Harb were celebrated for shooting or poniarding
the man who ventured to use to them even the mild epithet "O jackass!"
And in the quiet of the city the boy Mohammed, like a sobered man
shuddering at dangers braved when drunk, hearkened with discomposure
and penitence to his friend's words. The only immediate consequence of
his abuse was that my broken Shugduf became a mere ruin, and we passed
the dark hours perched like two birds upon the only entire bits of
framework the cots contained.
The sun had nearly risen (July 25th) before I shook off the lethargic
effects of such a night. All around me were hurrying their camels,
regardless of rough ground, and not a soul spoke a word to his
neighbour. "Are there robbers in sight?" was the natural question.
"No!" replied Mohammed; "they are walking with their eyes,[FN#17] they
will presently see their homes!" Rapidly we passed the Wady
al-Akik,[FN#18] of which,
"O my friend, this is Akik, then stand by it,