BACK TO THE OCEAN
After several days at Adahan we climbed down northward. Our journey was
only three miles along a very narrow valley, but we made much more of it
climbing after plants and shells. We stopped at the first little flat
place that would hold our tents, a sort of small shelf more than
knee-deep in that awful grass; and though we really enjoyed that camp for
two days, pain was our portion all the time. The scenery was magnificent,
and all the more striking that the mountains, having cast off their
lichen covering, gleamed out in their glowing red. All round us there was
such steepness that it was a work of great difficulty to set up my camera
anywhere.
We had a very steep descent after that over sharp stones to the plain, my
husband and I, as usual, when on foot, starting before the others, and
though we were sorry when we finally quitted the mountains, we were glad
enough to find ourselves on our camels again, to be carried to Suk, where
we decided to stay, as we heard that the sultan's boat was there and the
sultan himself was not so very far off. We wished to engage the ship for
our return to Aden.
Before leaving the s.s. _Canara_ my husband had begged the captain to
take a letter to Bombay requesting that the B.I.S.N. Co. would send a
steamer for us, and let us know about it by some dhow. A dhow had arrived
from Bombay with no letter for us, but with news of the plague: so we
became afraid that if the plague prevented the steamer from coming and
we waited for it, we might have to stick on Sokotra during the whole of
the south-west monsoon. My husband therefore began parleying about
sailing-boats and had sent Ammar from Adahan, and the sultan had sent his
captain up to meet us.
Dr. Schweinfurth sees in the present name of Sokotra a Hindoo origin, and
the survival of the Hindoo name Diu Sukutura, which the Greeks, after
their easy-going fashion, changed into Dioscorides. This is very
ingenious and most likely correct. When the Portuguese reached the island
in 1538, they found the Arab sheikh dwelling at the capital called Zoko,
now in ruins, and still called Suk, a survival doubtless of the original
name.
The old capital of Zoko is a delicious spot, and the ruins are buried in
groves of palm-trees by the side of a large and deep lagoon of fresh
water; this lagoon is only separated from the sea by a narrow belt of
sand and shingle, and it seems to me highly probable that this was the
ancient harbour where the boats in search of the precious products of the
island found shelter. The southern coast of Arabia affords many instances
of these silted harbours, and the northern coast of Sokotra is similar,
many of the lagoons, or _khors_ as they call them, being deep and running
over a mile inland. The view at Suk over the wide lagoon fringed with
palm groves, on to the jagged heights of Mount Haghier rising immediately
behind, is, I think, to be placed amongst the most enchanting pictures I
have ever seen.
Extensive excavation at Suk might probably bring to light some
interesting relics of the earlier inhabitants of this island, but it
would have to be deep, as later edifices have been erected here; and
labour and tools would have to be brought from elsewhere.
The present capital is called Tamarida by Arabs and foreigners, and
Hadibo by the natives, and its construction is quite of a modern date;
the name is apparently a Latinised form of the Arabic _tamar_, or date
fruit, which tree is largely cultivated there.
Much is said by old writers about the Greek colonists who came to Sokotra
in ancient times, but I cannot help thinking that the Hellenic world
never carried its enterprise much in this direction, for, if the Greeks
did, they have left no trace whatsoever of their existence there.
I should think few places in the world have pursued the even tenor of
their way over so many centuries as Sokotra has. Yakut, writing seven
hundred years ago, speaks of the Arabs as ruling here; the author of the
'Periplus' more than one thousand years ago tells us the same thing; and
now we have a representative of the same country and the same race
governing the island still.
Sokotra has followed the fortunes of Arabia; throughout, the same
political and religious influences which have been at work in Arabia have
been felt here. Sokotra, like Arabia, has gone through its several stages
of Pagan, Christian, and Mohammedan beliefs.
The first time the island came in contact with modern ideas and modern
civilisation was when the Portuguese occupied it in 1538, and this was,
as we have seen, ephemeral. Then the island fell under the rod of Wahabi
persecution at the beginning of this century, as did nearly the whole of
Arabia in those days. In 1835 it was for a short time brought under
direct British influence, and Indian troops encamped on the plain of
Tamarida. It was then uncertain whether Aden or Sokotra would be chosen
as a coaling station for India, and Lieutenant Wellsted was sent in the
_Palinurus_ to take a survey of it; but doubtless the harbourless
condition of the island, and the superior position of Aden in that
respect, caused the decision in favour of Aden.
The advantages Aden afforded for fortification and for commanding the
mouth of the Red Sea influenced the decision, and Sokotra, with its fair
mountains and rich fertility, was again allowed to relapse into its
pristine state of quiescence, and the British soldier was condemned to
sojourn on the barren, burning rocks of Aden, instead of in this island
paradise.
Finally, in 1876, to prevent the island being acquired by any other
nation, the British Government entered into a treaty with the sultan, by
which the latter gets 360 dollars a year, and binds himself and his heirs
and successors, 'amongst other things, to protect any vessel, foreign or
British, with the crew, passengers, and cargo, that may be wrecked on the
island of Sokotra and its dependencies,' and it is understood that the
island is never to be ceded to a foreign power without British consent.
A more peaceful, law-abiding people it would be hard to find
elsewhere--such a sharp contrast to the tribes on the South Arabian
coast. They seem never to quarrel amongst themselves, as far as we could
see, and the few soldiers Sultan Salem possesses have a remarkably easy
time of it. Our luggage was invariably left about at night without anyone
to protect it, and none of it was stolen, and after our journeys in
Southern Arabia the atmosphere of security was exceedingly agreeable.
The only thieves were the white and yellow vultures who sat on guard
around our kitchen and were always ready to carry off our meat, and made
many valiant attempts to do so.
Money is scarce in the island, and so are jealousies, and probably the
Bedouin of Sokotra will remain in their bucolic innocence to the end of
time, if no root of bitterness in the shape of modern civilisation is
planted amongst them.
It is undoubtedly a providential thing for the Sokotran that his island
is harbourless, that his mountains are not auriferous, and that the
modern world is not so keen about dragon's-blood, which is still called
'the blood of two brothers,' frankincense and myrrh, as the ancients
were. A thing we regretted very much in leaving Sokotra was the
delightful peace of travelling without an armed escort, which we had not
enjoyed for years; we knew we should soon be travelling again with
soldiers in Arabia.
There is a wretched hamlet of Somali at Suk, which had been visited by us
from Hadibo. We had only one night at Suk, and in the morning my husband
and Matthaios went off on foot to Haulah or Haulaf to see the boat. This
is where the sultan lives. I believe the boat was actually at Khor
Dilisha. They did not think it would have been so far or they would have
taken camels. It was a three-mile tramp in the sand.
My husband and Matthaios came back from Haulah very hot and tired, not
having seen the sultan; he was sleeping or praying all the time, the mode
in which Moslems say 'not at home'--in short he was keeping out of the
way. They described the boat as everything that was delightful, though
people not so well accustomed as we were to voyaging in these ships might
not agree with them, but it was impossible to come to terms. They had had
a very stormy interview with the sultan's captain, who said that 1,000
rupees was the lowest price. My husband said he had paid no more for the
steamer, and we had all had beds provided and food; 800 was his highest
price.
The sultan has a miserable house in a very uncomfortable spot, surrounded
by a few huts belonging to fishermen, who go out on little rafts made of
bundles of palm-leaf ribs to drop the traps for fish.
[Illustration: THE HAGHIER MOUNTAINS FROM SUK
(_From a water-colour sketch by Theodore Bent_)]
We then moved to Hadibo again, going along the shore, and encamping quite
in a different place to that in which we were at first; we were in a nice
date grove by the lagoon and close to the beach. We now commenced a
time of dreadful uncertainty as to how or when we could leave the island.
Hearing nothing from the sultan, Matthaios was sent on a camel to offer
800 rupees, and returned most indignant, 2,000 being the lowest price
asked, _i.e._ 124_l._ Later the captain came, agreed to the 800, and said
my husband must pay 400 at sunset to get wood and water. As the men never
came for the money till we were in bed, they were sent off till next
morning, when they came very early and asked for paper to write the
contract. My husband produced some, with pen and ink. They said they
could only write with a pencil, but when that was got the captain said
500 must be paid: he did not want it himself, nor yet the sultan, but the
sailors did; my husband then said he would complain to the Wali of Aden,
and they all suddenly departed, and the captain, we heard, went to
Kadhoup, where there was another boat, in order to prevent its owner
spoiling the sultan's bargain.
Two days after we had a message to say we were to pay the whole 800
rupees at once, that the sultan was coming to fetch it himself, and that
we should positively start that day.
No sultan came, but next day a very affectionate letter from him said he
would come round with the ship at sunset. We had to forgive his
non-appearance that time, as there was such a storm that we could not, in
any case, have passed the surf. Next day he came by land to the castle,
where we had seen him, and sent to ask my husband to bring the money; so
he went, attended by myrmidons bearing money-bags, pen, and paper, but as
the sultan would not sign the contract, the money was brought back. At
midday there was an apology sent with two lambs and a little calf, and at
sunset the sultan really arrived at our camp, signed the contract, and
carried off the money; so we left next day.
We had plenty to do, so were quite occupied all this time. I used to
develop photographs, for I had my dark tent set up. I had awful trials to
bear. The water was so warm that the gelatine frilled in spite of alum,
and what was worse, when I put the negatives in the hyposulphate of soda
they ran off their supports like so much hot starch. Some I saved, but I
never dared do more than carefully dip them in the 'hypo,' and even then
it seemed to froth up at once. I had a good many negatives marked by
this, and had to smooth off the bubbles with my hands, regardless of
their colour, and I had to work at night for coolness.
We had very little milk while there; none till the last two days. A man
was drinking a bowlful in our camp, and this is the surprising way in
which he did it: he dipped his hand in and sucked his fingers (not clean
ones at first), and so continued till he had finished it all up. Our
visitors used sometimes suddenly to hurry off to pray, choosing a bit of
damp sand, and when they returned some of the sand was sticking to their
foreheads. The longer that sand stayed on the better, as it was
considered a sign of a religious man.
We had an anxious battle with white ants also. A basket was nearly
devoured by them, but our best steamer raiment was preserved by the inner
lining of American cloth, though they were sitting on it in sheets. We
had remarked in South Africa that they never eat mackintosh. The basket
was brushed over the sea, steeped in the lagoon, and inundated with
boiling water. This was the only thing attacked of all that we had left
behind when we were in Hadibo the first time.
Our brown ship, 70 feet in length by 15 wide, did really look a very
'mere nutshell' to go 500 miles over the great ocean in, but it was far,
far better than some we had been in.
From the deck Sokotra looked almost too beautiful to leave.
The weather was very rough, the sailors not nearly ready, and it was
midday before we started. By this time all the servants were prostrate,
and my husband had to get the sailors to help him in setting up our beds,
and arranging the baggage in the place between decks astern, which was 3½
feet high, and, as the beds had to be tied to each other, 2 feet apart,
as well as to the sides of the ship, we had to bend low and step high
when moving about. The two Somali servants managed wonderfully to take it
in turns to be well after a bit, but Matthaios was one of the worst, so
food was a difficulty and his wrath was great when, Mahmoud having made
us tea like ink, he found the tea canister empty. We had rough weather
enough, but the wind was favourable. We were always afraid of falling off
our seats at meals, for we were perched anywhere, on anything we could
get, round our kitchen box as a table. Bruises alone were not the cause
of our terror, but the fact is that the sailors were always shaking their
raiment and making those searching and successful investigations,
accompanied by that unmistakable movement of the elbows and backs of the
thumb-nails, which literally 'give one the creeps.'
The captain had a compass, but no other instrument of any kind, and none
of the sailors seemed to know the way. They showed us islands, which we
knew to be such, as the African coast, and Cape Guardafui where we knew
it could not be.
On the third evening we saw the Asiatic coast, and at sunset we saw the
jagged Jebel Shemshan very far away, and of course hoped to see it nearer
next day. But when we woke in the morning, my husband went out to see the
cause of the unusual rocking of the ship and still more unusual silence,
and found everyone asleep and the ship lying to out of sight of any land.
The captain said they imagined we had passed Aden in the dark, and
thinking they should soon be among rocks or coral-reefs had stopped; a
dreadful uproar then arose, and everyone on the ship shouted different
directions for steering. My husband desired them to steer north that we
might find land, as none of them had any idea of our longitude. At last
we saw a steamer, presumably from Aden, and getting north of her and
steering west we at length had Africa on our port side again, and reached
Aden by the following sunrise, though it took us till two o'clock to get
into port.
BELED FADHLI AND BELED YAFEI