INLAND FROM MERSA HALAIB
When we returned to Halaib we encamped preparatory to going inland. Great
doctoring had to be done over the hand of Ahmet Farraj, our clown. He had
held a large hook overboard, with a bait, but no line, and a shark 7 feet
long was caught and hauled on board. The shark bit the man's first finger
badly. Various remedies were applied by the sailors in turns--tar,
grease, earth, and other things--and it was in a very bad state when
brought to us. It was quite cured eventually, but we were afraid of
blood-poisoning. When I began cleaning it most tenderly he scraped it out
with a stick, and his friends dipped stones in the warm water and soundly
scrubbed the surrounding inflamed parts. My husband prescribed a washing
all over with hot water and stones. He was afterwards quite a different
colour.
Our second expedition was to Shellal. We took two days on our way
thither, passing through clouds of locusts--that is to say, they were in
clouds on our return, but were young and in heaps when we first saw them.
We stayed at Shellal several days, for my husband thought as we could get
no further in that direction on account of the danger of the Dervishes,
it was as well that we, and especially Captain Smyth, should make as many
expeditions thence as possible. We heard so many contradictory reports,
but little thought how imminent the war was.
After our somewhat long experience of life on a dhow we were delighted to
become Bedou once more, and wander amongst the fine rocky range of
mountains, but we were disappointed that our guide would not take us far
behind this range for fear of the Dervishes; and, as shortly after the
outbreak of the war a party of Dervishes came right down to Halaib, there
is every reason to believe that had we gone far inland at this point we
might have been compelled to pay the Khalifa a not over-pleasant visit at
Omdurman.
Wadi Shellal and the adjacent mountains of Shendeh, Shindoeh, and Riadh
form a _cul de sac_ as far as camels are concerned, and only difficult
mountain paths lead over into the Soudan from here. As far as we could
see the country did not look very tempting or promise much compensation
for the difficulties of transit. We were taken by the Batran to a few
spots where there had been ancient habitations; they probably belonged to
the Kufic period, and were doubtless military stations to protect the
small hamlets scattered at the foot of these mountains, when Aydab was a
place of some importance, from the incursion of hostile tribes from the
interior.
Shellal itself reaches an elevation of 4,100 feet; Shindeh, 4,500 feet;
Riadh, 4,800 feet; and Asortriba or Sorturba to the south seems, though
we did not get its elevation, to be the highest of the group.
[Illustration: ELBA MOUNTAINS FROM SHELLAL]
On our return to Halaib we passed a Bisharin encampment, consisting of
half a dozen beehive huts made of matting on rounded sticks. The women
were weaving rough cloths at the door of one of them, and were dressed in
long sheets which once may have been white, but are now the colour of
dirt. They had glass beads and cowries tied to their matted locks, and
brass and silver rings of considerable size fastened to their noses; the
small children ran about naked, with waistbands of leather straps, on
which were strung long agate and carnelian beads, with cowrie danglements
hanging down in front. They seemed very poor, and the old ladies to whom
my husband gave pinches of tobacco were so effusive in their gratitude
that for some moments he feared his generosity was to be rewarded by a
kiss.
Our net results from the excursions from Halaib were more or less of a
negative character. The mountain scenery was grand, and the climate
exquisite, but, from our observations, we came to the conclusion that at
no time was this country of much use to anybody, and that it never had
been thickly inhabited, the existence of Aydab being probably due to its
position as a convenient port opposite Arabia for the inhabitants of the
Nile Valley. Water is, and probably always has been, very scarce here,
and, except after the rains, this country is little better than a desert.
The Bishari of the Akhmed Orab tribe, who inhabit the mountains, are
exceedingly few in number, and the Batran told us that all the way from
Ras Bernas to Mount Sorturba, just south of Shellal, over which country
his rule extends, the whole tribe could muster only about three hundred
fighting men. They have the Ababdeh to the north, and the Amara Bisharin
to the south, and apparently their relations with their neighbours are
usually strained. These tribes are purely pastoral, and cultivate no land
whatsoever. They live in huts in groups of from three to six together,
and are scattered over the country at wide intervals. They wear their
hair fuzzy at the top, with a row of curls hanging down the neck, usually
white and stiff with mutton fat. They are medium-sized, dark-skinned, and
some of them decidedly handsome. They are girt only with a loin-cloth and
sheet, and every shepherd here carries his shield and his sword. Under a
good and settled government they would undoubtedly be excellent members
of society, but with the Khalifa on one side and the Egyptian Government
on the other their position is by no means an enviable one. Their huts
are very small and dingy, being constructed with bent sticks on which
palm-leaf matting is stretched; inside they are decorated with their
paraphernalia for weddings and camel-travelling, all elaborately
decorated with cowrie and other shells, the most remarkable of these
things being the tall conical hats with long streamers used for dances at
weddings, entirely covered with cowrie shells in pretty patterns. The
things they use for hanging up food are also prettily decorated with
shells and strips of red and blue cloth. The family occupying a hut sleep
on mats in the inner part, with the usual wooden African pillows, and
around the outer edge of the hut are collected their wooden bowls for
sour milk, their skins for water, their incense-burners, and their
limited number of household utensils. Often when he goes off to distant
pasturages a Bishari will pack up his tent and household gods and leave
them in a tree, where he will find them quite safe on his return. They
live principally on milk and the products of their flocks, water being to
them a far more precious article than milk. They are very knowledgeable
in the mountain shrubs and herbs, and pointed out to us many which they
eat for medicinal and other purposes; but the only one of these which we
appreciated was a small red gourd climbing amongst the mimosa branches,
resembling a tomato, _Cephalandra Indica_. This they call _gourod_, their
usual word for gourd. Also they are, like the akridophagoi whom
Agatharchides places on their coast, large consumers of locusts when in
season; they catch them only when they have reached the flying stage, and
roast them in the ashes. We often saw clouds of locusts in this district,
devouring all the scanty herbage and literally filling the air.
For many years past the Egyptian authority in these parts has been _nil_,
and confined only to a few wretched forts on the coast. Dervish raids
from the interior and the stoppage of whatever caravan trade there ever
was have contributed to the miserable condition of affairs now existing.
One can well understand why these miserable hounded tribes are wavering
in their allegiance between the Egyptian Government and the Khalifa, whom
they dread, and why they countenance the slave-traders, for the reason
that they have no power to resist them.
For all practical purposes it is a wretched country, waterless during a
great part of the year, except where some deep ancient wells, scattered
at wide intervals over the country, form centres where camels and flocks
can be watered; and as we travelled along we were struck by the numbers
of these wells which had been quite recently abandoned. But the mountains
are magnificently grand, sharp in outline like Montserrat in Spain, and
with deep and lovely gorges. Formerly they abounded in mines, and were
celebrated for their mineral wealth, and if there is ever to be a revival
in this country it will be from this source that hope will come.
We had such strong wind when we went to sea again that we feared we
should not be able to start, but we got away after all, rising up early
to be dressed before we were shaken about; but we forgot to empty our
basins, and they emptied themselves into our beds, and all the luggage
banged about and the kitchen things went all over the place, including
the 'range,' consisting of two little stoves in paraffin-cans, but we got
on splendidly till we began to turn into Mersa or Khor Shinab, as the
Bisharin call it; the Arab name is Bishbish.
Khor Shinab is a typical specimen of a _mersa_; it is cruciform, and is
entered by a narrow passage between the reefs, about 20 feet across, and
runs sinuously inland for about two miles, and is never more than a
quarter of a mile wide.
We had the second-sized sail up, but that had to be taken down and a
smaller tried; the sheet of this soon gave way, and the sail went up in
the air with the block and tore all across. This was a frightful sight,
as we were among coral reefs. The sailors flew about, casting off
garments in all directions. A smaller sail tore up in a few moments, and
we were stuck on a reef. Then the smallest sail of all was taken out of
its bag, and that got us off with some grating, the captain and some
others standing on the reef on the port side with water half up to their
knees, pushing with all their might. There were fourteen fathoms under us
to starboard. The little sail soon gave way at the top and fell into the
water.
One anchor was sent out in a boat and then another, and when they tried
to get up the first it was so entangled that they were a long time over
it, and one of the five flukes was broken. We were kept off the reef by
poles all this time. That broken anchor was then taken ashore, and we
were very thankful to be safe.
The flat ground for miles inland is composed of nothing but madrepore,
and is covered with semi-fossilised sea-shells, which have probably not
been inhabited for thousands of years. We walked over this for three
miles before reaching the first spurs of the mountains, and it is
impossible to conceive a more barren or arid spot. Khor Shinab is a
well-known resort for slave-trading craft; small boats can easily hide in
its narrow creeks and escape observation.
We stayed two days while the sails were mended on the shore, and it was
hours and hours before the anchor that was in the reef could be got up
and fastened to the dry land. We did try to get out to sea again, but the
north wind was raging so we could not do it, and, besides, the sailors
were very unwilling to start, as a raven was sitting on the bow.