THROUGH WADI KASR
When we reached the foot of the hill on which Hagarein stands we
dismounted; there was tremendous work to get out the sword of the oldest
soldier; he had used it so much as a walking-stick that it was firmly
fixed in the scabbard. The scabbards are generally covered with white
calico. A very steep, winding, slippery road led us to the gate, where
soldiers received us and conducted us to a courtyard, letting off guns
the while. There stood the Sultan Abdul M'Barrek Hamout al Kaiti, a very
fat, evil-looking man, pitted by smallpox. After shaking hands he led us
down the tortuous streets to his palace, and then took us up a narrow mud
staircase, so dark that we did not know whether to turn to the right or
left; we sometimes went one way and sometimes the other. At length we
reached a small room with some goat-hair carpets and we and the sultan,
the soldiers (his and ours), the Bedouin and my groom, M'barrek, all
seated ourselves round the wall, and after a long time a dirty glass of
water was handed round as our only entertainment. As we had had nothing
to eat since sunrise, and it was about two o'clock, we did not feel
cheerful when the sultan abruptly rose and said he must pray. Praying and
sleeping are always the excuses when they want to get rid of guests or
say 'not at home,' and indeed the sleeping excuse prevails in Greece
also.
Some time after, our four chairs were brought, so we sat till near four
o'clock homeless, and getting hungrier and hungrier, when the sultan
reappeared, telling my husband all our things were locked up in a
courtyard and giving him a great wooden key. We hastened to our home, up
a long dark stair, past many floors, all used as stalls and stables, &c.,
only the two top floors being devoted to human habitation. Each floor
consisted of one fair-sized room and one very tiny den, a kitchen. The
whole Indian party had the lower room, and three of our soldiers the den.
I cannot think how they could all lie down at once, and they had to cook
there besides. Above that, we had the best room, the botanist and
naturalist the den, and Matthaios made his abode on the roof, where he
cooked. The Bedouin, having unloaded the camels in the courtyard across
the street, refused to help us, and, as no one else could be got, my
husband and all his merry men had to carry up the baggage, while I
wrestled with the beds and other furniture in our earthy room. The
instant the baggage was up the Bedouin clamoured for payment, and it was
trying work opening the various packages where the bags of money were
scattered, and to begin quarrelling when we were so weary and hungry. We
had been told that our journey to Hagarein would take twenty days,
whereas it only took thirteen, and that we must take two camels for
water, which had proved unnecessary; besides the camels had been much
loaded with fish and other goods belonging to the Bedouin. My husband
said he would pay for the twenty days and they would thus have thirty
dollars as _bakshish_. But, in the end, the soldiers from Makalla said we
must pay _bakshish_: it would be an insult to their sultan if we did not
and they would go no further with us. The local sultan also insisting,
fourteen more dollars had to be produced. Our own soldiers soon came
shouting and saying they must have half a rupee a day for food, which my
husband thought it wise to give, though the _wazir_ at Makalla had said
he was to give nothing.
They were hardly gone when the sultan came back personally conducting two
kids and saying we need think of no further expense; we were his guests
and were to ask for what we wished. All my husband asked for was daily
milk. We got some that day, but never again. My groom, M'barrek, then
came, saying he must have food money; that being settled, he returned
saying the sultan said he must have half a rupee a day for my horse,
which became very thin on the starvation he got.
All this time we could get no water, so not till dark could Matthaios
furnish us with tea, cold meat, bread, and honey.
We were fortunate in having plenty of bread. We had six big sacks of
large cakes of plain bread dried hard, and of this we had learnt the
value by experience. We kept it sheltered, if there was any fear of rain,
as in Abyssinia, for instance, and before a meal soaked it in water,
wrapped it in a napkin a few minutes, and then dried it up to the
consistency of fresh bread. We were often obliged to give it to the
horses, for the difficulty as to forage makes them unfit to travel in
such barren places.
We also took charcoal and found that, with it and the bread, we had our
meals long before the Indian party, who had a weary search for fuel
before they could even begin with 'pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man.'
The making of _chupatties_ also causes delay in starting. As to the honey
it is most plentiful and tastes like orange flowers, but really it is the
date-flower which imparts this flavour. It is much more glutinous than
ours. It is packed, for exportation and to bring as tribute, in large
round tin boxes, stopped up round the edges with mud. It is used in
paying both taxes and tribute.
We were quite worn out with this day. The sultan received a present next
morning of silk for a robe, a turban, some handkerchiefs, two watches,
some knives, scissors, needle-cases, and other things, but he afterwards
sent Saleh to say he did not like his present at all and wanted dollars.
He got ten rupees and was satisfied.
We again visited him with our servants and soldiers and were given tea
while we talked over the future, and all seemed fair. Later the sultan
came to visit us and talk about the escort. He said we must take five
soldiers, bargained for their wages, food, and bakshish, and obtained the
money. My husband inquired about some ruins near Meshed, three hours by
camel from Hagarein, and said that if the sultan would arrange that we
should dig safely, he should have forty dollars, and he settled to go
with my husband next day to see the place. Accordingly next day the
sultan came with eight soldiers, singing and dancing all the way, and
some men of the Nahad tribe as _siyara_, as we were then in their land.
The sultan showed us two letters in which it was said that we were to
have been attacked between Sief and Kaidoun, and we remembered having
seen a man on a camel apparently watching for us, but instead of coming
forward he galloped away; and thus it appears we got past the place from
which they meant to set upon us, before the attacking party could arrive.
During the days we were at Hagarein several weddings were celebrated. To
form a suitable place for conviviality they cover over a yard with mats,
just as the Abyssinians do, and the women, to show their hilarity on the
occasion, utter the same gurgling noises as the Abyssinian women do on a
like occasion, and which in Abyssinia is called _ulultà_. From our roof
we watched the bridegroom's nocturnal procession to his bride's house,
accompanied by his friends bearing torches, and singing and speechifying
to their hearts' content.
On our return from the ruins near Meshed, Taisir (our soldier) came to us
and was very indignant about the price the sultan charged for his
soldiers. He was given ten rupees to attach himself to us, as an earnest
of the good bakshish he would get at the coast, as he said all the other
soldiers would go back from Shibahm, and really in that case I think he
would have been glad of our escort.
Then Saleh, who had 100 rupees a month and ate with everyone, came to
demand half a rupee a day for food; this was granted, as we thought it
could come off his bakshish, and he soon appeared to make the same
request for Mahmoud, the naturalist. Matthaios was furious, as Mahmoud
ate partly with him, and no one was angrier with him than Saleh. It was
settled that we should give him tea, bread, and four annas, and they all
went off bawling. Afterwards we heard Saleh had said, 'Mr. Bent is giving
so much money to the sultan, why should we not have some?'
We really thought at first that we should be able to encamp at Meshed and
dig, for there was a seyyid who had been in Hyderabad and was very civil
to us, but this happiness only lasted one hour. The sultan said it would
really not be safe unless we lived in Hagarein, so we had to give it up
as it was an impossibility to dig in the heat of the day, with six hours'
journey to fatigue us; besides we must have paid many soldiers and we
were told no one would dig for us. So much was said about the dangers of
the onward road that Saleh was sent with the letters for Shibahm and
Sheher and told to hold them tight, and say that if we could not deliver
these in person we should return to the wali of Aden and say that the
sultan of Hagarein would not let us go on. This frightened him, so he
made a very dear bargain for fifteen camels, and we were to leave next
day.
We were glad enough to depart from Hagarein, which is so picturesque that
it really might be an old, mediæval, fortified town on the Rhine, built
entirely of mud and with no water in its river. All the houses are
enormously high, and have a kitchen and oven on each floor. The bricks of
which they are built are about one foot square and with straw in them.
They have shooting holes from every room and machicolations over the
outer doors and along the battlements, and what makes the houses seem to
contain even more stories than they do, is that each floor has two ranges
of windows, one on the ground so that you can only see out if you sit on
the floor, and another too high to see out of at all; below every lower
window projects a long wooden spout. The narrow lanes are mere drains,
and the whole place a hotbed of disease; the people looked very
unhealthy: when cholera comes they die like flies. As a wind up to this
last evening Mahmoud came into our room and soon began to say his
prayers; we could not make out why, but it turned out he had no light in
his room.
Altogether we had not a reposeful time in Hagarein. We were told early
next day that fourteen men of the Nahad tribe had come as our _siyara_,
though we had been told two would be sufficient; so we had to agree to
take four. Then we were asked to pay those who had come unbidden. The
sultan came himself about it, and his children came to beg for annas. At
last the sultan, who had often said he felt as if he were our brother,
obtained twelve rupees which he asked for to pay his expenses for the
kids and honey, and said my horse had eaten the worth of twice as much
money as he had asked before.
When we finally got off we found the old rascal had only sent half the
Nahadi and had only sent two soldiers, and so had really made forty
dollars out of us over that one item. The Nahad men had ten dollars
each. They are not under the sultan of Makalla, but independent. The
Nahad tribe occupy about ten miles of the valley through which we passed,
and the toll-money we paid to this tribe for the privilege of passing by
was the most exorbitant demanded from us on our journey. When once you
have paid the toll-money (_siyar_), and have with you the escort
(_siyara_) of the tribe in whose territory you are, you are practically
safe wherever you may travel in Arabia, but this did not prevent us from
being grossly insulted as we passed by certain Nahad villages. Kaidoun,
where dwells the very holy man so celebrated all the country round for
his miracles and good works, is the chief centre of this tribe. We had
purposely avoided passing too near this town, and afterwards learnt that
it was owing to the influence of this very holy seyyid that our reception
was so bad amongst the Nahad tribe.
All about Hagarein are many traces of the olden days when the
frankincense trade flourished, and when the town of Doan, which name is
still retained in the Wadi Doan, was a great emporium for this trade.
Acres and acres of ruins, dating from the centuries immediately before
our era, lie stretched along the valley here, just showing their heads
above the weight of superincumbent sand which has invaded and overwhelmed
the past glories of this district. The ruins of certain lofty square
buildings stand upon hillocks at isolated intervals; from these we got
several inscriptions, which prove that they were the high 'platforms'
alluded to on so many Himyaritic inscribed stones as raised in honour of
their dead. As for the town around them, it has been entirely engulfed in
sand; the then dry bed of a torrent runs through the centre, and from
this fact we can ascertain, from the walls of sand on either side of the
stream, that the town itself has been buried some 30 feet or 40 feet by
this sand. It is now called Raidoun. The ground lies strewn with
fragments of Himyaritic inscriptions, pottery, and other indications of a
rich harvest for the excavator, but the hostility of the Nahad tribe
prevented us from paying these ruins more than a cursory visit, and even
to secure this we had to pay the sheikh of the place nineteen dollars,
and his greeting was ominous as he angrily muttered, 'Salaam to all who
believe Mohammed is the true prophet.'
We were warned 'that our eyes should never be let to see Meshed again;'
we might camp before we got there, or after, as we wished, so were led by
a roundabout way to Adab, and saw no more of the leprous seyyid who told
such wondrous tales about the English king who once lived in Hagarein,
and how the English, Turks, and Arabs were all descended from King Sam.
Also he told the Addite fable of how the giants and rich men tried to
make a paradise of their own, the beautiful garden of Irem, and defied
God, and so destruction came upon the tribe of Ad, the remnant of whom
survive at Aden on Jebel Shemshan, in the form of monkeys. This is the
Mohammedan legend of the end of the Sabæan Empire.
We were much amused with what Imam Sharif said to this seyyid. Imam
Sharif is himself a seyyid or sherif, a descendant of Mohammed, his
family having come from Medina, so he was always much respected. He said
to him: 'You think these English are very bad people, but the Koran says
that all people are like their rulers; now we have no spots or diseases
on our bodies, but are all clean and sound, which shows plainly that our
ruler and the rest of us must be the same. Now you, my brother, must be
under the displeasure of God, for I see that you are covered with
leprosy.' This was not a kind or civil speech, I fear, but not a ruder
one than those addressed to us. This leprosy shows itself by an
appearance as if patches of white skin were neatly set into the dark
skin.
At Adab they would not allow us to dip our vessels in their well, nor
take our repast under the shadow of their mosque: even the women of this
village ventured to insult us, peeping into our tent at night, and
tumbling over the jugs in a manner most aggravating to the weary
occupants. The soldiers had abandoned us and gone to sleep in the
village.
A dreary waste of sand led past Kerren to Badorah. I arrived first with
Imam Sharif, a servant, and a soldier. We dismounted, as there was some
surveying to be done. The people were quite friendly, we thought, though
they crowded round me shouting to see the 'woman.' I went to some women
grouped at a little distance, and we had no trouble as long as we were
there. We had left before the camels came and heard that the rest of the
party had been very badly received, stones were thrown, and shouts raised
of 'Pigs! Infidels! Dogs! Come down from your camels and we will cut your
throats.' We attributed this to Saleh Hassan, for he made enemies for us
wherever we went. At this village they were busy making indigo dye in
large jars like those of the forty thieves. We were soon out of the Nahad
country.
Our troubles on the score of rudeness were happily terminated at Haura,
where a huge castle, belonging to the Al Kaiti family, dominates a humble
village, surrounded by palm groves. Without photographs to bear out my
statement, I should hardly dare to describe the magnificence of these
castles in the Hadhramout. That at Haura is seven stories high, and
covers fully an acre of ground beneath the beetling cliff, with
battlements, towers, and machicolations bearing a striking likeness to
Holyrood; but Holyrood is built of stone, and Haura, save for the first
story, is built of sun-dried bricks, and if Haura stood where Holyrood
does, or in a rainy climate, it would long ago have crumbled away.
Haura is supposed to be the site of an ancient Himyaritic town. We were
told that the sultan of Hagarein is not entirely under Makalla, but that
he of Haura is.
The castle of the sultan is nice and clean inside, and it was pleasant,
after some very reviving cups of coffee and ginger, and some very public
conversation, to find our canvas homes all erected on a hard field--a
pleasant change from our late dusty places. Mahmoud obtained a fox, which
was his first mammal, saving a bushy-tailed rat. We were sent a lamb and
a box of honey, and soon after the governor arrived to request a present.
He asked thirty rupees but got twenty, and the new soldiers in place of
the Nahadi men were to have five rupees on arrival at Koton. We were now
nearing the palace of Sultan Salàh-bin-Mohammad al Kaiti of Shibahm, the
most powerful monarch in the Hadhramout, who has spent twelve years of
his life in India, and whose reception of us was going to be magnificent,
our escort told us.
As we were leaving Haura, just standing about waiting to mount, I felt
something hard in one finger of my glove which I was putting on. I
thought it was a dry leaf and hooked it down with my nail and shook it
into my hand. Imagine my terror on lifting my glove at seeing a scorpion
wriggling there. I dropped it quickly, shouting for Mahmoud and the
collecting-bottle, and then caught it in a handkerchief. This was the way
that _Buthia Bentii_ introduced himself to the scientific world, for he
was of a new species. It turned out that the 'oldest soldier' was father
to the sultan of Haura. He went no farther with us.
The next day, three miles after leaving Haura, we quitted the Wadi Kasr
and at last, at the village of Alimani, entered the main valley of the
Hadhramout. It is here very broad, being at least eight miles from cliff
to cliff, and receives collateral valleys from all sides, forming, as it
were, a great basin. Hitherto our way had been generally northward, from
Makalla to Tokhum, north-east, and then north-west; now we turned
westward down the great valley, though still with a slight northward
tendency.
We passed Ghanima, Ajlania on a rock to the right, and Henan and the Wadi
Menwab behind it on our left. Wellsted, in his list of the Hadhramout
towns, mentions Henan as Ainan, and as a very ancient town, on the hill
near which are inscriptions and rude sculptures.
For seven hours we travelled along the valley, which from its width was
like a plain till we were within a mile of the castle of Al Koton, where
the sultan of Shibahm resides. Thus far all was desert and sand, but
suddenly the valley narrows, and a long vista of cultivation was spread
before us. Here miles of the valley are covered with palm groves. Bright
green patches of lucerne called _kadhlb_, almost dazzling to look upon
after the arid waste, and numerous other kinds of grain are raised by
irrigation, for the Hadhramout has beneath its expanse of sand a river
running, the waters of which are obtained by digging deep wells. Skin
buckets are let down by ropes and drawn up by cattle by means of a steep
slope, and then the water is distributed for cultivation through narrow
channels; it is at best a fierce struggle with nature to produce these
crops, for the rainfall can never be depended upon. We had intended to
push on to Al Koton, but Sultan Salàh sent a messenger to beg us not to
arrive till the following morning, that his preparations to receive us
might be suitable to our dignity, as the first English travellers to
visit his domains. So we encamped just on the edge of the cultivation,
about a mile off, at Ferhud, where under the shade of palm-trees there is
a beautiful well of brackish water, with four oxen, two at each side to
draw up the water.
Outside the cultivation in its arid waste of sand the Hadhramout produces
but little; now and again we came across groups of the camelthorn, tall
trees somewhat resembling the holm oak. It is in Arabic a most
complicated tree. Its fruit, like a small crab apple, is called _b'dom_,
very refreshing, and making an excellent preserve; its leaves, which they
powder and use as soap, are called _ghasl_, meaning 'washing'; whereas
the tree itself is called _ailb_, and is dearly loved by the camels, who
stretch their long necks to feed off its branches.
We wondered what kind of reception we should have, for people's ideas on
this point vary greatly. In order not to offend the sultan's prejudices
too much, we determined to dissemble, and I decided not to wear my little
camera, and Imam Sharif packed the plane-table out of sight. We settled
that he should have the medicine chest in his charge and be the doctor of
the party, and addressed him as Hakim. Even Saleh feared so much what the
future might hold in store, that he removed his drawers and shoes, and
advised Imam Sharif to do the same, as Mohammed had never worn such
things. Imam Sharif refused to take these precautions, saying that if
Mohammed had been born in Cashmere he would have assuredly worn both
drawers and shoes. Imam Sharif wore a Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers
and a turban when on the march, but in camp he wore Indian clothes.
However, we were soon visited by the sultan's two wazirs on spirited Arab
steeds: magnificent individuals with plaided turbans, long lances, and
many gold mohurs fixed on their dagger handles, all of which argued well
for our reception on the morrow by the sultan of Shibahm.
We were a good deal stared at, but not disagreeably, for all the soldiers
were on their best behaviour. At Khaila and Sief we had to be tied up,
airless, in our tents, as if we left them open a minute when the crowd,
tired of seeing nothing, had dispersed, and one person saw an opening,
the whole multitude surged round again, pressing in, shouting and
smelling so bad that we regretted our folly in having tried to get a
little light and air. We saw among others a boy who had a wound in his
arm, and therefore had his nostrils plugged up; bad smells are said not
to be so injurious as good ones. Some women came and asked to see me, so
I took my chair and sat surrounded by them. They begged to see my hands,
so I took off my gloves and let them lift my hands about from one sticky
hand to another. They looked wonderingly at them and said 'Meskin' so
often and so pityingly that I am sure they thought I had leprosy all
over. Then they wished to see my head, and having taken off my hat, my
hair had to be taken down. They examined my shoes, turned up my gaiters,
stuck their fingers down my collar, and wished to undress me, so I rose
and said very civilly, 'Peace to you, oh women, I am going to sleep now,'
and retired.
Arab girls before they enter the harem and take the veil are a curious
sight to behold. Their bodies and faces are dyed a bright yellow with
turmeric; on this ground they paint black lines with antimony, over their
eyes; the fashionable colour for the nose is red; green spots adorn the
cheek, and the general aspect is grotesque beyond description.
We stayed in bed really late next morning, till the sun rose, and then
prepared ourselves to be fetched.
[Illustration: THE CASTLE OF THE SULTAN OF SHIBAHM AT AL KOTON]
The two young wazirs, Salim-bin-Ali and Salim-bin-Abdullah, cousins, came
again at 7.30 with two extra horses, which were ridden by my husband and
Saleh, as Imam Sharif stuck to the donkey which we named Mahsoud
(Happy).