PALGRAVE’S TRAVELS—RESIDENCE IN THE DJOWF.
THE elder of the two cavaliers who welcomed the travellers proved to be
Ghafil-el-Haboob, the chief of the most important family of the Djowf.
Ghafil, and also his companion, Dafee, invited the travellers to be his
guests, and the former, it afterward appeared, had intended that they
should reside in his house, hoping to make some profit from the
merchandise which they might have brought. They felt bound, at least, to
accompany him to his house and partake of coffee, before going elsewhere.
Palgrave thus describes the manner of their reception:
“The k’hawah was a large, oblong hall, about twenty feet in height, fifty
in length, and sixteen, or thereabouts, in breadth; the walls were
colored in a rudely decorative manner, with brown and white wash, and
sunk here and there into small triangular recesses, destined to the
reception of books—though of these Ghafil at least had no
over-abundance—lamps, and other such like objects. The roof of timber,
and flat; the floor was strewed with fine clean sand, and garnished all
round alongside of the walls with long strips of carpet, upon which
cushions, covered with faded silk, were disposed at suitable intervals.
“We enter. On passing the threshold it is proper to say, ‘_Bismillah_,’
_i.e._, ‘in the name of God;’ not to do so would be looked on as a bad
augury, alike for him who enters and for those within. The visitor next
advances in silence, till, on coming about half-way across the room, he
gives to all present, but looking specially at the master of the house,
the customary ‘_Es-salamu’aleykum_,’ or ‘Peace be with you,’ literally,
‘on you.’ All this while everyone else in the room has kept his place,
motionless, and without saying a word. But on receiving the salaam of
etiquette, the master of the house rises, and if a strict Wahabee, or at
any rate desirous of seeming such, replies with the full-length
traditionary formula ‘And with (or, on) you be peace, and the mercy of
God, and his blessings.’ But should he happen to be of anti-Wahabee
tendencies, the odds are that he will say ‘Marhaba,’ or ‘Ahlan w’sahlan,’
_i.e._, ‘welcome,’ or ‘worthy and pleasurable,’ or the like; for of such
phrases there is an infinite but elegant variety. All present follow the
example thus given by rising and saluting. The guest then goes up to the
master of the house, who has also made a step or two forward, and places
his open hand in the palm of his host’s, but without grasping or shaking,
which would hardly pass as decorous, and, at the same time each repeats
once more his greeting, followed by the set phrases of polite inquiry,
‘How are you?’ ‘How goes the world with you?’ and so forth, all in a
tone of great interest, and to be gone over three or four times, till one
or other has the discretion to say ‘El hamdu Pillah,’ ‘Praise be to God,’
or, in equivalent value, ‘all right,’ and this is a signal for a
seasonable diversion to the ceremonious interrogatory.
“Meantime we have become engaged in active conversation with our host and
his friends. But our Sherarat guide, Suleyman, like a true Bedouin,
feels too awkward when among townsfolk to venture on the upper places,
though repeatedly invited, and accordingly has squatted down on the sand
near the entrance. Many of Ghafil’s relations are present; their
silver-decorated swords proclaim the importance of the family. Others,
too, have come to receive us, for our arrival, announced beforehand by
those we had met at the entrance pass, is a sort of event in the town;
the dress of some betokens poverty, others are better clad, but all have
a very polite and decorous manner. Many a question is asked about our
native land and town, that is to say, Syria and Damascus, conformably to
the disguise already adopted, and which it was highly important to keep
well up; then follow inquiries regarding our journey, our business, what
we have brought with us, about our medicines, our goods and wares, etc.
From the very first it is easy for us to perceive that patients and
purchasers are likely to abound. Very few travelling merchants, if any,
visit the Djowf at this time of year, for one must be mad, or next door
to it, to rush into the vast desert around during the heats of June and
July; I for one have certainly no intention of doing it again. Hence we
had small danger of competitors, and found the market almost at our
absolute disposal.
“But before a quarter of an hour has passed, and while blacky is still
roasting or pounding his coffee, a tall, thin lad, Ghafil’s eldest son,
appears, charged with a large circular dish, grass-platted like the rest,
and throws it with a graceful jerk on the sandy floor close before us.
He then produces a large wooden bowlful of dates, bearing in the midst of
the heap a cupful of melted butter; all this he places on the circular
mat, and says, ‘Semmoo,’ literally, ‘pronounce the Name,’ of God,
understood; this means ‘set to work at it.’ Hereon the master of the
house quits his place by the fireside and seats himself on the sand
opposite to us; we draw nearer to the dish, and four or five others,
after some respectful coyness, join the circle. Everyone then picks out
a date or two from the juicy, half-amalgamated mass, dips them into the
butter, and thus goes on eating till he has had enough, when he rises and
washes his hands.”
“I will take the opportunity of leading my readers over the whole of the
Djowf, as a general view will help better to understand what follows in
the narrative, besides offering much that will be in part new, I should
fancy, to the greater number.
“This province is a sort of oasis, a large oval depression of sixty or
seventy miles long, by ten or twelve broad, lying between the northern
desert that separates it from Syria and the Euphrates, and the southern
Nefood, or sandy waste, and interposed between it and the nearest
mountains of the central Arabian plateau. However, from its comparative
proximity to the latter, no less than from the character of its climate
and productions, it belongs hardly so much to Northern as to Central
Arabia, of which it is a kind of porch or vestibule. If an equilateral
triangle were to be drawn, having its base from Damascus to Bagdad, the
vertex would find itself pretty exactly as the Djowf, which is thus at a
nearly equal distance, southeast and southwest, from the two localities
just mentioned, while the same cross-line, if continued, will give at
about the same intervals of space in the opposite direction, Medina on
the one hand, and Zulphah, the great commercial door of Eastern Nedjed,
on the other. Djebel Shomer lies almost due south, and much nearer than
any other of the places above specified. Partly to this central
position, and partly to its own excavated form, the province owes its
appropriate name of Djowf, or ‘belly.’
“The principal, or rather the only, town of the district, all the rest
being mere hamlets, bears the name of the entire region. It is composed
of eight villages, once distinct, but which have in process of time
coalesced into one, and exchanged their separate existence and name for
that of Sook, or ‘quarter,’ of the common borough. Of these Sooks, the
principal is that belonging to the family Haboob, and in which we were
now lodged. It includes the central castle already mentioned, and
numbers about four hundred houses. The other quarters, some larger,
others smaller, stretch up and down the valley, but are connected
together by their extensive gardens. The entire length of the town thus
formed, with the cultivation immediately annexed, is full four miles, but
the average breadth does not exceed half a mile, and sometimes falls
short of it.
“The size of the domiciles varies with the condition of their occupants,
and the poor are contented with narrow lodgings, though always separate;
for I doubt if throughout the whole of Arabia two families, however
needy, inhabit the same dwelling. Ghafil’s abode, already described, may
give a fair idea of the better kind; in such we have an outer court, for
unlading camels and the like, an inner court, a large reception-room, and
several other smaller apartments, to which entrance is given by a private
door, and where the family itself is lodged.
“But another and a very characteristic feature of domestic architecture
is the frequent addition, throughout the Djowf, of a round tower, from
thirty to forty feet in height and twelve or more in breadth, with a
narrow entrance and loop-holes above. This construction is sometimes
contiguous to the dwelling-place, and sometimes isolated in a neighboring
garden belonging to the same master. These towers once answered exactly
the same purposes as the ‘torri,’ well known to travellers in many cities
of Italy, at Bologna, Siena, Rome, and elsewhere, and denoted a somewhat
analogous state of society to what formerly prevailed there. Hither, in
time of the ever-recurring feuds between rival chiefs and factions, the
leaders and their partisans used to retire for refuge and defence, and
hence they would make their sallies to burn and destroy. These towers,
like all the modern edifices of the Djowf, are of unbaked bricks; their
great thickness and solidity of make, along with the extreme tenacity of
the soil, joined to a very dry climate, renders the material a rival
almost of stone-work in strength and endurance. Since the final
occupation of this region by the forces of Telal, all these towers have,
without exception, been rendered unfit for defence, and some are even
half-ruined. Here again the phenomena of Europe have repeated themselves
in Arabia.
“The houses are not unfrequently isolated each from the other by their
gardens and plantations; and this is especially the case with the
dwellings of chiefs and their families. What has just been said about
the towers renders the reasons of this isolation sufficiently obvious.
But the dwellings of the commoner sort are generally clustered together,
though without symmetry or method.
“The gardens of the Djowf are much celebrated in this part of the East,
and justly so. They are of a productiveness and variety superior to
those of Djebel Shomer or of upper Nedjed, and far beyond whatever the
Hedjaz and its neighborhood can offer. Here, for the first time in our
southward course, we found the date-palm a main object of cultivation;
and if its produce be inferior to that of the same tree in Nedjed and
Hasa, it is far, very far, above whatever Egypt, Africa, or the valley of
the Tigris from Bagdad to Bassora can show. However, the palm is by no
means alone here. The apricot and the peach, the fig-tree and the vine,
abound throughout these orchards, and their fruit surpasses in
copiousness and flavor that supplied by the gardens of Damascus or the
hills of Syria and Palestine. In the intervals between the trees or in
the fields beyond, corn, leguminous plants, gourds, melons, etc., etc.,
are widely cultivated. Here, too, for the last time, the traveller bound
for the interior sees the irrigation indispensable to all growth and
tillage in this droughty climate kept up by running streams of clear
water, whereas in the Nedjed and its neighborhood it has to be
laboriously procured from wells and cisterns.
“Besides the Djowf itself, or capital, there exist several other villages
belonging to the same homonymous province, and all subject to the same
central governor. Of these the largest is Sekakah; it lies at about
twelve miles distant to the northeast, and though inferior to the
principal town in importance and fertility of soil, almost equals it in
the number of its inhabitants. I should reckon the united population of
these two localities—men, women, and children—at about thirty-three or
thirty-four thousand souls. This calculation, like many others before us
in the course of the work, rests partly on an approximate survey of the
number of dwellings, partly on the military muster, and partly on what I
heard on the subject from the natives themselves. A census is here
unknown, and no register records birth, marriage, or death. Yet, by aid
of the war list, which generally represents about one-tenth of the entire
population, a fair though not absolute idea may be obtained on this
point.
“Lastly, around and at no great distance from these main centres, are
several small villages or hamlets, eight or ten in number, as I was told,
and containing each of them from twenty to fifty or sixty houses. But I
had neither time nor opportunity to visit each separately. They cluster
round lesser water springs, and offer in miniature features much
resembling those of the capital. The entire population of the province
cannot exceed forty or forty-two thousand, but it is a brave one, and
very liberally provided with the physical endowments of which it has been
acutely said that they are seldom despised save by those who do not
themselves possess them. Tall, well-proportioned, of a tolerably fair
complexion, set off by long curling locks of jet-black hair, with
features for the most part regular and intelligent, and a dignified
carriage, the Djowfites are eminently good specimens of what may be
called the pure northern or Ishmaelitish Arab type, and in all these
respects they yield the palm to the inhabitants of Djebel Shomer alone.
Their large-developed forms and open countenance contrast strongly with
the somewhat dwarfish stature and suspicious under-glance of the Bedouin.
They are, besides, a very healthy people, and keep up their strength and
activity even to an advanced age. It is no uncommon occurrence here, to
see an old man of seventy set out full-armed among a band of youths;
though, by the way, such “green old age” is often to be met with also in
the central province farther south, as I have had frequent opportunity of
witnessing. The climate, too, is good and dry, and habits of out-door
life contribute not a little to the maintenance of health and vigor.
“In manners, as in locality, the worthies of Djowf occupy a sort of
half-way position between Bedouins and the inhabitants of the cultivated
districts. Thus they partake largely in the nomad’s aversion to
mechanical occupations, in his indifference to literary acquirements, in
his aimless fickleness too, and even in his treacherous ways. I have
said, in the preceding chapter, that while we were yet threading the
narrow gorge near the first entrance of the valley, several horsemen
appeared on the upper margin of the pass, and one of them questioned our
guide, and then, after a short consultation with his companions, called
out to us to go on and fear nothing. Now, the name of this individual
was Suliman-ebn-Dahir, a very adventurous and fairly intelligent young
fellow, with whom next-door neighborhood and frequent intercourse
rendered us intimate during our stay at the Djowf. One day, while we
were engaged in friendly conversation, he said, half laughing, ‘Do you
know what we were consulting about while you were in the pass below on
the morning of your arrival? It was whether we should make you a good
reception, and thus procure ourselves the advantage of having you
residents among us, or whether we should not do better to kill you all
three, and take our gain from the booty to be found in your baggage.’ I
replied with equal coolness, ‘It might have proved an awkward affair for
yourself and your friends, since Hamood your governor could hardly have
failed to get wind of the matter, and would have taken it out of you.’
‘Pooh!’ replied our friend, ‘never a bit; as if a present out of the
plunder would not have tied Hamood’s tongue.’ ‘Bedouins that you are,’
said I, laughing. ‘Of course we are,’ answered Suliman, ‘for such we all
were till quite lately, and the present system is too recent to have much
changed us.’ However, he admitted that they all had, on second thoughts,
congratulated themselves on not having preferred bloodshed to
hospitality, though perhaps the better resolution was rather owing to
interested than to moral motives.
“The most distinctive good feature of the inhabitants of Djowf is their
liberality. Nowhere else, even in Arabia, is the guest, so at least he
be not murdered before admittance, better treated, or more cordially
invited to become in every way one of themselves. Courage, too, no one
denies them, and they are equally lavish of their own lives and property
as of their neighbors’.
“Let us now resume the narrative. On the morning after our arrival—it
was now the 1st of July—Ghafil caused a small house in the neighborhood,
belonging to one of his dependents, to be put at our entire disposal,
according to our previous request. This, our new abode, consisted of a
small court with two rooms, one on each side, for warehouse and
habitation, the whole being surrounded with an outer wall, whose door was
closed by lock and bolt. Of a kitchen-room there was small need, so
constant and hospitable are the invitations of the good folks here to
strangers; and if our house was not over capacious, it afforded at least
what we most desired, namely, seclusion and privacy at will; it was,
moreover, at our host’s cost, rent and reparations.
“Hither, accordingly, we transferred baggage and chattels, and arranged
everything as comfortably as we best could. And as we had already
concluded, from the style and conversation of those around us, that their
state of society was hardly far enough advanced to offer a sufficiently
good prospect for medical art, whose exercise, to be generally
advantageous, requires a certain amount of culture and aptitude in the
patient, no less than of skill in the physician, we resolved to make
commerce our main affair here, trusting that by so doing we should gain a
second advantage, that of lightening our more bulky goods, such as coffee
and cloth, whose transport had already annoyed us not a little.
“But in fact we were not more desirous to sell than the men, women, and
children of the Djowf were to buy. From the very outset our little
courtyard was crowded with customers, and the most amusing scenes of Arab
haggling, in all its mixed shrewdness and simplicity, diverted us through
the week. Handkerchief after handkerchief, yard after yard of cloth,
beads for the women, knives, combs, looking-glasses, and what not? (for
our stock was a thorough miscellany) were soon sold off, some for ready
money, others on credit; and it is but justice to say that all debts so
contracted were soon paid in very honestly; Oxford High Street tradesmen,
at least in former times, were not always equally fortunate.
“Meanwhile we had the very best opportunity of becoming acquainted with
and appreciating all classes, nay, almost all individuals, of the place.
Peasants, too, from various hamlets arrived, led by rumor, whose trumpet,
prone to exaggerate under every sky, had proclaimed us throughout the
valley of Djowf for much more important characters, and possessed of a
much larger stock in hand, than was really the case. All crowded in, and
before long there were more customers than wares assembled in the
storeroom.
“Our manner of passing the time was as follows: We used to rise at early
dawn, lock up the house, and go out in the pure cool air of the morning
to some quiet spot among the neighboring palm-groves, or scale the wall
of some garden, or pass right on through the by-lanes to where
cultivation merges in the adjoining sands of the valley; in short, to any
convenient place where we might hope to pass an hour of quiet,
undisturbed by Arab sociability, and have leisure to plan our work for
the day. We would then return home about sunrise, and find outside the
door some tall lad sent by his father, generally one of the wealthier and
more influential inhabitants of the quarter yet unvisited by us, waiting
our return, to invite us to an early breakfast. We would now accompany
our Mercury to his domicile, where a hearty reception, and some neighbors
collected for the occasion, or attracted by a cup of good coffee, were
sure to be in attendance. Here an hour or so would wear away, and some
medical or mercantile transaction be sketched out. We, of course, would
bring the conversation, whenever it was possible, on local topics,
according as those present seemed likely to afford us exact knowledge and
insight into the real state and circumstances of the land. We would then
return to our own quarters, where a crowd of customers, awaiting us,
would allow us neither rest nor pause till noon. Then a short interval
for date or pumpkin eating in some neighbor’s house would occur, and
after that business be again resumed for three or four hours. A walk
among the gardens, rarely alone, more often in company with friends and
acquaintances, would follow; and meanwhile an invitation to supper
somewhere had unfailingly been given and accepted.”
“After supper all rise, wash their hands, and then go out into the open
air to sit and smoke a quiet pipe under the still transparent sky of the
summer evening. Neither mist nor vapor, much less a cloud, appears; the
moon dips down in silvery whiteness to the very verge of the palm-tree
tops, and the last rays of daylight are almost as sharp and clear as the
dawn itself. Chat and society continue for an hour or two, and then
everyone goes home, most to sleep, I fancy, for few Penseroso lamps are
here to be seen at midnight hour, nor does the spirit of Plato stand much
risk of unsphering from the nocturnal studies of the Djowf; we, to write
our journal, or to compare observations and estimate characters.
“Sometimes a comfortable landed proprietor would invite us to pass an
extemporary holiday morning in his garden, or rather orchard, there to
eat grapes and enjoy ourselves at will, seated under clustering
vine-trellises, with palm-trees above and running streams around. How
pleasant it was after the desert! At other times visits of patients,
prescriptions, and similar duties would take up a part of the day; or
some young fellow, particularly desirous of information about Syria or
Egypt, or perhaps curious after history and moral science, would hold us
for a couple of hours in serious and sensible talk, at any rate to our
advantage.”
It was necessary that the travellers should not delay in paying their
official visit to Hamood, the vice-gerent of Telal. His residence is in
the centre of the garden region, near a solitary round tower, whose
massive stone walls are mentioned in Arabian poetry. Hamood’s residence
is an irregular structure, of more recent date, with no distinguishing
feature except a tower about fifty feet in height. Palgrave and his
companion were accompanied by a large number of their newly-found
friends. After passing through an outer court, filled with armed guards,
they found the ruler seated in his large reception-hall:
“There, in the place of distinction, which he never yields to any
individual of Djowf, whatever be his birth or wealth, appeared the
governor, a strong, broad-shouldered, dark-browed, dark-eyed man, clad in
the long white shirt of the country, and over it a handsome black cloak,
embroidered with crimson silk; on his august head a silken handkerchief
or _keffee’yeh_, girt by a white band of finely woven camel’s hair; and
in his fingers a grass fan. He rose graciously on our approach, extended
to us the palm of his hand, and made us sit down near his side, keeping,
however, Ghafil, as an old acquaintance, between himself and us, perhaps
as a precautionary arrangement against any sudden assault or treasonable
intention on our part, for an Arab, be he who he may, is never off his
guard when new faces are in presence. In other respects he showed us
much courtesy and good-will, made many civil inquiries about our health
after so fatiguing a journey, praised Damascus and the Damascenes, by way
of an indirect compliment, and offered us a lodging in the castle. But
here Ghafil availed himself of the privileges conceded by Arab custom to
priority of host-ship to put in his negative on our behalf; nor were we
anxious to press the matter. A pound or so of our choicest coffee, with
which we on this occasion presented his excellency, both as a mute
witness to the object of our journey, and the better to secure his
good-will, was accepted very readily by the great man, who in due return
offered us his best services. We replied that we stood in need of
nothing save his long life, this being the Arab formula for rejoinder to
such fair speeches; and, next in order, of means to get safe on to Ha’yel
so soon as our business at the Djowf should permit, being desirous to
establish ourselves under the immediate patronage of Telal. In this he
promised to aid us, and kept his word.”
Hamood afterward politely returned their visit, and they frequently went
to his castle for the purpose of studying the many interesting scenes
presented by the exercise of the very primitive Arab system of justice.
Palgrave gives the following case as a specimen:
“One day my comrade and myself were on a visit of mere politeness at the
castle; the customary ceremonies had been gone through, and business, at
first interrupted by our entrance, had resumed its course. A Bedouin of
the Ma’az tribe was pleading his cause before Hamood, and accusing
someone of having forcibly taken away his camel. The governor was seated
with an air of intense gravity in his corner, half leaning on a cushion,
while the Bedouin, cross-legged on the ground before him, and within six
feet of his person, flourished in his hand a large reaping-hook,
identically that which is here used for cutting grass. Energetically
gesticulating with this graceful implement, he thus challenged his
judge’s attention: ‘You, Hamood, do you hear?’ (stretching out at the
same time the hook toward the governor, so as almost to reach his body,
as though he meant to rip him open); ‘he has taken from me my camel; have
you called God to mind?’ (again putting his weapon close to the
unflinching magistrate). ‘The camel is my camel; do you hear?’ (with
another reminder from the reaping-hook); ‘he is mine, by God’s award, and
yours too; do you hear, child?’ and so on, while Hamood sat without
moving a muscle of face or limb, imperturbable and impassible till some
one of the counsellors quieted the plaintiff with ‘Remember God, child;
it is of no consequence, you shall not be wronged.’ Then the judge
called on the witnesses, men of the Djowf, to say their say, and on their
confirmation of the Bedouin’s statement, gave orders to two of his
satellites to search for and bring before him the accused party; while he
added to the Ma’azee, ‘All right, daddy, you shall have your own; put
your confidence in God,’ and composedly motioned him back to his place.
“A fortnight and more went by, and found us still in the Djowf, ‘honored
guests’ in Arab phrase, and well rested from the bygone fatigues of the
desert. Ghafil’s dwelling was still, so to speak, our official home; but
there were two other houses where we were still more at our ease; that of
Dafee, the same who along with Ghafil came to meet us on our first
arrival; and that of Salim, a respectable and, in his way, a literary old
man, our near neighbor, and surrounded by a large family of fine
strapping youths, all of them brought up more or less in the fear of
Allah and in good example. Hither we used to retire when wearied of
Ghafil and his like, and pass a quiet hour in their k’hawah, reciting or
hearing Arab poetry, talking over the condition of the country and its
future prospects, discussing points of morality, or commenting on the
ways and fashions of the day.”
The important question for the travellers was how they should get to
Djebel Shomer, the great fertile oasis to the south, under the rule of
the famous Prince Telal. The terrible _Nefood_, or sand-passes, which
the Arabs themselves look upon with dread, must be crossed, and it was
now the middle of summer. The hospitable people of the Djowf begged
Palgrave and his friends to remain until September, and they probably
would have been delayed for some time but for a lucky chance. The Azzam
tribe of Bedouins, which had been attacked by Prince Telal, submitted,
and a dozen of their chiefs arrived at the Djowf, on their way to Djebel
Shomer, where they purposed to win Telal’s good graces by tendering him
their allegiance in his very capital. Hamood received them and lodged
them for several days, while they rested from their past fatigues, and
prepared themselves for what yet lay before them. Some inhabitants of
the Djowf, whose business required their presence at Ha’yel, were to join
the party. “Hamood sent for us,” Palgrave continues, “and gave us notice
of this expedition, and on our declaring that we desired to profit by it,
he handed us a scrap of paper, addressed to Telal himself, wherein he
certified that we had duly paid the entrance fee exacted from strangers
on their coming within the limits of Shomer rule, and that we were indeed
respectable individuals, worthy of all good treatment. We then, in
presence of Hamood, struck our bargain with one of the band for a couple
of camels, whose price, including all the services of their master as
guide and companion for ten days of July travelling, was not extravagant
either; it came up to just a hundred and ten piastres, equivalent to
eighteen or nineteen shillings of English money.
“Many delays occurred, and it was not till the 18th of July, when the
figs were fully ripe—a circumstance which furnished the natives of Djowf
with new cause of wonder at our rushing away, in lieu of waiting like
rational beings to enjoy the good things of the land—that we received our
final ‘Son of Hodeirah, depart.’ This was intimated to us, not by a
locust, but by a creature almost as queer, namely, our new conductor, a
half-cracked Arab, neither peasant nor Bedouin, but something anomalous
between the two, hight Djedey’, and a native of the outskirts of Djebel
Shomer, who darkened our door in the forenoon, and warned us to make our
final packing up, and get ready for starting the same day.
“When once clear of the houses and gardens, Djedey’ led us by a road
skirting the southern side of the valley, till we arrived, before sunset,
at the other, or eastern, extremity of the town. Here was the rendezvous
agreed on by our companions; but they did not appear, and reason good,
for they had right to a supper more under Hamood’s roof, and were loath
to lose it. So we halted and alighted alone. The chief of this quarter,
which is above two miles distant from the castle, invited us to supper,
and thence we returned to our baggage, there to sleep. To pass a
summer’s night in the open air on a soft sand bed implies no great
privation in these countries, nor is anyone looked on as a hero for so
doing.
“Early next morning, while Venus yet shone like a drop of melted silver
on the slaty blue, three of our party arrived and announced that the rest
of our companions would soon come up. Encouraged by the news, we
determined to march on without further tarrying, and ere sunrise we
climbed the steep ascent of the southerly bank, whence we had a
magnificent view of the whole length of the Djowf, its castle and towers,
and groves and gardens, in the ruddy light of morning, and beyond the
drear northern deserts stretching far away. We then dipped down the
other side of the bordering hill, not again to see the Djowf till—who
knows when?”