SAILING FROM KOSSEIR TO ADEN
Our object had been to go across from Dhofar by land to the Hadhramout,
across the Mahri country. Wali Suleiman had done all in his power to help
us, but without much success, as the Gara were more or less at war with
the Mahri, who are a dangerous warlike tribe. When we first left Al Hafa,
a message had been sent to the Mahri chiefs to come and arrange about our
journey, but on our return we found that only two had come. They said if
we would give them 200 reals, _i.e._ about 12_l._, they would let us go
through their country, but they made no allusion to the request that they
would arrange with the Minhali, Amri, Kattiri, and Tamimi. As far as we
and the wali could make out, they would only have let us go a certain way
along their coast, and then we should have been in difficulty about a
ship. The reply from the sultan of Jedid was also unfavourable, so we had
nothing left but to hire a _batil_ and set sail along the coast for
Kishin, to the sultan of which place my husband had a letter from the
British political agent at Maskat.
We took leave of Wali Suleiman with much regret, and had we foreseen all
the disappointments that were in store for us we should, I think, have
stayed far longer under his favourable influence. We were sorry
afterwards to hear of his death. A rebellion broke out, in which his
castle was knocked into ruins, and in the battle he, his eldest son, and
little black Muoffok were all killed.
A long sea journey in an Arab batil is exceedingly uncomfortable. We had
a cabin in the stern, open all round; a sail was stretched in front to
secure our privacy; it was so low that we could by no means stand or even
sit up except on the deck, as 3 feet 6 inches was the height of this
place. It was roofed over with palm-stalks supported on posts overlaid
with matting, so slippery that Imam Sharif and Hassan, the interpreter,
had to tie themselves with ropes, as there was nothing to prevent their
sliding into the sea. I stayed in my camp bed for six days, as there was
nothing else to do. Our servants crowded every space on the outer part of
the deck in and on boxes. We had some palm-leaf matting hung on the port
and southern side to shield us from the sun, and much rejoiced that we
were not deprived by the sun of the glorious views which unrolled
themselves along our starboard side.
When morning came, Lobo used to creep in across my husband's feet and
bring our basins to our bed-sides, and when our toilette was finished he
used to creep in and fetch them, and then creep back, and, spreading the
breakfast on the floor, squat in the middle and hand us our food. The
gunwale of the batil was only three inches from the level of my bed. Airy
as our 'cabin' was, bilge-water was our torment.
We had started on January 23, the weather being cool and overcast, about
11 o'clock, and reached the village of Rakhiout in thirty hours--only
forty miles.
We called there to do a civility to the wali, and leave two soldiers
there. This is the end of Omani influence, and there is a small fort as a
protection against the Mahri. There was a contrary wind and such a
violent swell that we rocked and tossed for thirty more hours in front of
the small village, whence parties of inhabitants came to stare at us. It
is on a small flat space, with high hills and cliffs all round it.
We started at last, and got at least two miles, when we were awakened by
a great gale. I was nearly blown out of bed. The sail was taken down, and
we were in some danger, as it was feared the mast would give way. We
anchored, and the wind seemed to blow from all sides at once; the small
boat was nearly smashed against the rudder. The stars were shining
brightly all the time.
We started again at dawn, and did not go more than three-quarters of a
mile in the whole day, the wind being so contrary. One of the
peculiarities of our navigation was that whenever we tacked we went
completely round. At sunset we had to cast anchor again, and lie tossing
till three, and then went on well.
While at anchor we heard shouts and cries to come to land, but our
sailors would do nothing of the sort. They said a single man might often
be seen calling that he was wrecked, and asking to be fetched away, but a
party of armed men would be behind a rock, and come out and murder the
benevolent crew and steal the boat.
It was really delightful in the morning to open my still sleepy eyes and,
without moving, to see the lovely picture which seemed to be passing
before me--not I before it--of beautiful mountains with their foreground
of water, every fold and distance filled up and separated by soft
vapours. Then sunrise began to paint the rocks red, and black shadows
came and changed their shapes, and presently all became hard and stony
looking.
Passing Ras Hamar, which is the next cape to Risout, we had seen easily
how it had acquired the name, for it looks like a donkey drinking, with
its nose in the water and its ears cocked. This shows particularly from
the west. In the pilot book of that sea, it is stated that it is called
Hamar, or Ahmar, from its red colour; but it is not red. The two peculiar
peaks on its summit are noticed.
The wind died away about nine, and we shook about and went round and
round; but in the afternoon we had a good wind, and at noon of the next
day (January 28) we were before Kishin.
The sultan was at his village, three miles inland, or, more correctly, in
sand--a hot walk. He is a wizened little old man, who can neither read
nor write, and was poorly dressed, visitors being quite unexpected.
The village of Kishin, the Mahri capital, consists of a few scattered
houses and some Bedou huts of matting and poles placed in a dreary sandy
waste, very different from the fertile plain of Dhofar, and more like the
surroundings of Sheher.
When my husband asked for the sultan's assistance to go into the
Hadhramout, he said: 'No one ever goes that way, it is full of robbers.'
Of course he was civil enough, as my husband showed him the letter from
Maskat, but he seemed to have little authority. I think his followers
were sorry to see such a likely prize depart unmolested. Those on board
were rather alarmed at the length of time consumed in these negotiations.
The old Sultan Salem is father to the sultan of Sokotra, which belongs to
the Mahri tribe, and brother to the sultan of Saihut, another robber
chief, who is equally averse to admitting Europeans to his dominions. The
fact is that these tribes object to European inquiry, as they know they
would no longer be able to exist in their present condition.
My husband extracted from him a letter to his brother of Saihut.
After our futile attempts to penetrate into the Mahri country, there was
nothing left for us but to start again in our boat for Sheher, and rely
on the promises which Sultan Hussein al Kaiti had given us the year
before of sending us under safe escort to the eastern portion of the
Hadhramout valley, which must contain much of interest, not yet having
been explored by Europeans; so we set sail again, and were soon passing
country that we had ridden over on camels.
Ras Fartak is the great landmark, but the fine scenery ends at Jedid.
Looking back, the rich colouring of the capes, seeming to overlap one
another, and the great height, give a most impressive effect. The slopes
are adorned with feathery-looking trees, and there are many little sandy
beaches, and there were also many deep caverns. For two days we saw
hardly an inhabitant.
Between Jedid and Ras Fartak the land is low and recedes, and as we
sailed along we decided that it was the mouth of some big valley from the
interior, and after careful cross-examination of the sultan of Kishin and
our sailors we gathered that this was actually the mouth of the great
Hadhramout valley, which does not take the extraordinary bend that is
given in our maps, but runs in almost a straight line from west to east,
and the bend represents an entirely distinct valley, the Wadi Mosila,
which comes out at Saihut.
We were two days getting to Sheher, anchoring both nights; the first, as
'dirty weather' was causing alarm, was a very noisy one, the servants and
sailors talking and singing all night to be in readiness. The second
night we were put to bed very quietly among the strange and weird stacks
of rocks at Ras Dis, and had a heavy shower of rain, which, of course,
penetrated our matting roof.
When we reached Sheher, a messenger was sent ashore with a letter to
Sultan Hussein, and a message was returned inviting us to take up our
quarters in the same unfinished palace where we had lived ten months
before. One of the first people to greet us was the _nàkhoda_ of the ship
on which we had gone to Aden from Sheher. The word _reis_ for captain is
never used. Ghaleb Mia was at the house to meet us, and we were much
interested by finding that the governors of everywhere round about were
in Sheher to give up their accounts. He of Hagarein was scowling, but
they of Dis, Kosseir, and Haura seemed friendly and pleased to see us. We
heard good accounts of various patients, and were especially pleased to
hear that the daughter of the governor of Dis, who had for some time been
bedridden with a bad leg, had been well ever since our visit--quite cured
by Holloway's ointment. The next day there were great negotiations and
plannings as to our future course.
Our scheme was that we should go from Sheher to Inat in the Hadhramout
valley, down to Bir Borhut and Kabr Houd, and thence eastward to Wadi
Mosila, back to Sheher by the coast, and then try to go westward--or, as
to us appeared preferable, to go up by the Wadi Mosila to Wadi
Hadhramout, and then to try to get to the west without returning to
Sheher.
There we stuck for some days, listening to any gossip we could hear, and
taking evening walks by the sea, guarded by soldiers. We were told that
Sultan Salàh of Shibahm had lost his head wife, the sister of Manassar of
Makalla, but had consoled himself by marrying four others about two
months afterwards, and had divorced two of them already. The family of Al
Kaiti are not very good friends among themselves; a soldier discharged by
Salàh of Shibahm is always quickly engaged by Hussein of Sheher, and if
Hussein dismisses a servant he is sure of a place with Manassar. They
stop each other's letters and annoy each other in many ways, but are
always ready to unite if any strange foe assails their family.
Manassar had quarrelled with his wife, the daughter of Salàh, because
Salàh, on the death of his wife, had refused to marry a third daughter of
Manassar, as his dying wife requested. Hussein had only one wife and no
children.
There had been great trouble with the Hamoumi, and only three months
before two soldiers had been killed about half a mile from Sheher. Ghaleb
Mia and Hussein Mia dared not go to Inbula or anywhere outside their
walls without forty or fifty men, and when Salàh's daughter, who is
married to the seyyid, came to Sheher, she had to come by a circuitous
route, with an escort of five hundred men.
When a Bedou has committed a murder, he runs to the houses of the
seyyids, where there is sanctuary, and gets absolution on paying four or
five hundred dollars, according to the rank of the murdered man. Thus
travelling is difficult unless you have paid _siyar_, and a relation of
the _siyara_ is kept in prison at Sheher. All this time the behaviour of
the sultans and their hospitality to us were very different to what it
had been the year before; they sent us no presents of food, nor did they
ever invite Imam Sharif to a meal, which they had constantly done when we
were last there. Their manner was stiff and constrained, and they said
they themselves had been badly treated for their kindness to us and that
they were now considered Kafirs themselves. The fact is that all the
Mohammedan world was in a state of restless activity, as the jehad, or
holy war, was being preached. And now I will tell a most remarkable
circumstance, quite the most extraordinary in this book.
Sultan Hussein told my husband _on February 1_ that a consul had been
murdered at Jedda.
We were most excited about this, and anxiously inquired about it when we
reached Aden, but heard that no murder had taken place, _nor did it till
May_, when several consuls were murdered.
This proves that it must have been a very long-arranged plan, and that
the sultan knew of it and thought it had had time to be carried out. No
doubt all this accounted for his bad reception of us.
After a good deal of illusory delay, the sultan declared he could not in
any way be responsible for our safety if we went anywhere from Sheher, so
we had to bow to the inevitable and put ourselves on board a dhow
belonging to Kutch, bound for Aden.
The captain and sailors were all Hindoos, and to our amusement our
Mohammedan party were as unclean as ourselves. The crew would not let us
touch their fire and water, and filled our vessels themselves without
touching them, very good-humouredly, and they made up an extra galley for
us by putting some sand in a wooden box, and here Christians and Moslems
had perforce to cook together. Of course we did not mind, but there was
much laughter at the expense of the others, in which indeed they joined,
for they bore their adversity amiably when it brought strange
cooking-fellows.
On reaching Aden we still desired to penetrate into the Jebel Akhdar, so
looked out for a ship going to Maskat. We could find none, therefore we
embarked for India with all our company. I am not going to describe
India, but will only tell of our money difficulties.
So ignorant were we and everyone at Maskat as to what money was in use in
Dhofar, that we were persuaded that it was necessary to take an immense
quantity of small change in the shape of copper coins about the size of a
farthing, supposed to be Omani. We had four wooden boxes bound with wire,
about 1 foot long and 5 or 6 inches high and wide, delivered to us, all
closed up, and said to have a certain sum in each.
Soon after we set out we opened one of these boxes to get out some money
and have it ready, but found in it so many and various kinds of coins,
all the same size, that we opened all the boxes, making quite a mound on
the ground, to sort out the German East Africa, English East Africa,
Zanzibar, and other useless coins, and then packed them neatly up, an
awfully troublesome and dirty job. We kept out what we thought would
pass, but behold! all were useless; no one would look at anything but
Maria Theresa dollars and Indian coins down to two-anna pieces--nothing
lower.
All these boxes, therefore, had to return to Maskat, and when paying off
the interpreter, Hassan, a most respectable person with large, round,
gold spectacles, my husband asked him to be kind enough to take his money
in these boxes and change at Maskat. No, he would only have good silver
dollars; and sadly he rued his want of good-nature.
We two and Lobo, whom we retained, went to a hotel in Bombay, but Imam
Sharif, Khan Bahadur, his four men, our Goanese cook, Hassan, and a
certain young Afghan, Ahmet, who had been a sort of odd man and
tent-pitcher, went to a caravanserai; and after Hassan's steamer had
departed to Maskat, Imam Sharif came and told us the doleful tidings that
Ahmet had disappeared with the good silver dollars and the gold watch and
chain of Hassan. No doubt he then regretted he had not taken the boxes of
copper.
[Illustration: MAP OF
MOUNT ERBA
and surrounding country
to illustrate the explorations of
Mr. J. THEODORE BENT
_Stanford's Geog.^l Estab.^t, London_
London: Smith, Elder & Co.]
AN AFRICAN INTERLUDE: THE EASTERN SOUDAN