PALGRAVE’S TRAVELS—CROSSING THE NEFOOD.
“OUR way was now to the southeast, across a large plain varied with
sand-mounds and covered with the ghada-bush, already described, so that
our camels were much more inclined to crop pasture than to do their
business in journeying ahead. About noon we halted near a large tuft of
this shrub, at least ten feet high. We constructed a sort of cabin with
boughs broken off the neighboring plants and suitably arranged shedwise,
and thus passed the noon hours of intolerable heat till the whole band
came in sight.
“They were barbarous, nay, almost savage, fellows, like most Sherarat,
whether chiefs or people; but they had been somewhat awed by the
grandeurs of Hamood, and yet more so by the prospect of coming so soon
before the terrible majesty of Telal himself. All were duly armed, and
had put on their best suits of apparel, an equipment worthy of a
scarecrow or of an Irishman at a wake. Tattered red overalls; cloaks
with more patches than original substance, or, worse yet, which opened
large mouths to cry for patching, but had not got it; little broken
tobacco pipes, and no trousers soever (by the way, all genuine Arabs are
_sans-culottes_); faces meagre with habitual hunger, and black with dirt
and weather stains—such were the high-born chiefs of Azzam, on their way
to the king’s levee. Along with them were two Bedouins of the Shomer
tribe, a degree better in guise and person than the Sherarat; and lastly,
three men of Djowf, who looked almost like gentlemen among such
ragamuffins. As to my comrade and myself, I trust that the reader will
charitably suppose us the exquisites of the party. So we rode on
together.
“Next morning, a little after sunrise, we arrived at a white calcareous
valley, girt round with low hills of marl and sand. Here was the famous
Be’er Shekeek, or ‘well of Shekeek,’ whence we were to fill our
water-skins, and that thoroughly, since no other source lay before us for
four days’ march amid the sand passes, up to the very verge of Djebel
Shomer.
“Daughters of the Great Desert, to use an Arab phrase, the ‘Nefood,’ or
sand-passes, bear but too strong a family resemblance to their unamiable
mother. What has been said elsewhere about their origin, their extent,
their bearings, and their connection with the Dhana, or main sand-waste
of the south, may exempt me from here entering on a minute enarration of
all their geographical details; let it suffice for the present that they
are offshoots—inlets, one might not unsuitably call them—of the great
ocean of sand that covers about one-third of the peninsula, into whose
central and comparatively fertile plateau they make deep inroads, nay, in
some places almost intersect it. Their general character, of which the
following pages will, I trust, give a tolerably correct idea, is also
that of Dahna, or ‘red desert,’ itself. The Arabs, always prone to
localize rather than generalize, count these sand-streams by scores, but
they may all be referred to four principal courses, and he who would
traverse the centre must necessarily cross two of them, perhaps even
three, as we did.
[Picture: Captain Burton as a Pilgrim]
“The general type of Arabia is that of a central table-land, surrounded
by a desert ring, sandy to the south, west, and east, and stony to the
north. This outlying circle is in its turn girt by a line of mountains,
low and sterile for the most, but attaining in Yemen and Oman
considerable height, breadth, and fertility, while beyond these a narrow
rim of coast is bordered by the sea. The surface of the midmost
table-land equals somewhat less than one-half of the entire peninsula,
and its special demarcations are much affected, nay, often absolutely
fixed, by the windings and in-runnings of the Nefood. If to these
central highlands, or Nedjed, taking that word in its wider sense, we add
the Djowf, the Ta’yif, Djebel ’Aaseer, Yemen, Oman, and Hasa, in short,
whatever spots of fertility belong to the outer circles, we shall find
that Arabia contains about two-thirds of cultivated, or at least of
cultivable, land, with a remaining third of irreclaimable desert, chiefly
to the south. In most other directions the great blank spaces often left
in maps of this country are quite as frequently indications of
non-information as of real non-inhabitation. However, we have just now a
strip, though fortunately only a strip, of pure, unmitigated desert
before us, after which better lands await us; and in this hope let us
take courage and boldly enter the Nefood.
“Much had we heard of them from Bedouins and countrymen, so that we had
made up our minds to something very terrible and very impracticable. But
the reality, especially in these dog days, proved worse than aught heard
or imagined.
“We were now traversing an immense ocean of loose reddish sand, unlimited
to the eye, and heaped up in enormous ridges, running parallel to each
other from north to south, undulation after undulation, each swell two or
three hundred feet in average height, with slant sides and rounded crests
furrowed in every direction by the capricious gales of the desert. In
the depths between the traveller finds himself as it were imprisoned in a
suffocating sand-pit, hemmed in by burning walls on every side; while at
other times, while laboring up the slope, he overlooks what seems a vast
sea of fire, swelling under a heavy monsoon wind, and ruffled by a cross
blast into little red-hot waves.”
Palgrave devotes several pages to his journey across the Nefood, bearing
out in his general description its character, as above.
Lady Anne Blunt, who with her husband and native followers crossed the
Nefood sixteen years later, however, takes issue with Mr. Palgrave as to
its character, as will be found in Chapter XVII., largely devoted to her
travels in Arabia.
Arriving at the eastern edge of the Nefood Palgrave continues:
“The morning broke on us still toiling amid the sands. By daylight we
saw our straggling companions like black specks here and there, one far
ahead on a yet vigorous dromedary, another in the rear dismounted, and
urging his fallen beast to rise by plunging a knife a good inch deep into
its haunches, a third lagging in the extreme distance. Everyone for
himself and God for us all!—so we quickened our pace, looking anxiously
before us for the hills of Djobbah, which could not now be distant. At
noon we came in sight of them all at once, close on our right, wild and
fantastic cliffs, rising sheer on the margin of the sand sea. We coasted
them awhile, till at a turn the whole plain of Djobbah and its landscape
opened on our view.
“Here we had before us a cluster of black granite rock, streaked with
red, and about seven hundred feet, at a rough guess, in height; beyond
them a large barren plain, partly white and encrusted with salt, partly
green with tillage, and studded with palm-groves, amongst which we could
discern, not far off, the village of Djobbah, much resembling that of
Djowf in arrangement and general appearance, only smaller, and without
castle or tower. Beyond the valley glistened a second line of
sand-hills, but less wild and desolate-looking than those behind us, and
far in the distance the main range of Djebel Shomer, a long purple sierra
of most picturesque outline. Had we there and then mounted, as we
afterward did, the heights on our right, we should have also seen in the
extreme southwest a green patch near the horizon, where cluster the palm
plantations of Teymah, a place famed in Arab history, and by some
supposed identical with the Teman of Holy Writ.
“But for the moment a drop of fresh water and a shelter from the July sun
was much more in our thoughts than all the Teymahs or Temans that ever
existed. My camel, too, was—not at the end of his wits, for he never had
any—but of his legs, and hardly capable of advance, while I was myself
too tired to urge him on vigorously, and we took a fair hour to cross a
narrow white strip of mingled salt and sand that yet intervened between
us and the village.
“Without its garden walls was pitched the very identical tent of our
noble guide, and here his wife and family were anxiously awaiting their
lord. Djedey’ invited us—indeed he could not conformably with Shomer
customs do less—to partake of his board and lodging, and we had no better
course than to accept of both. So we let our camels fling themselves out
like dead or dying alongside of the tabernacle, and entered to drink
water mixed with sour milk.” Here the caravan rested for a day.
“About sunrise on the 25th of July we left Djobbah, crossed the valley to
the southeast, and entered once more on a sandy desert, but a desert, as
I have before hinted, of a milder and less inhospitable character than
the dreary Nefood of two days back. Here the sand is thickly sprinkled
with shrubs and not altogether devoid of herbs and grass; while the
undulations of the surface, running invariably from north to south,
according to the general rule of that phenomenon, are much less deeply
traced, though never wholly absent. We paced on all day; at nightfall we
found ourselves on the edge of a vast funnel-like depression, where the
sand recedes on all sides to leave bare the chalky bottom-strata below;
here lights glimmering amid Bedouin tents in the depths of the valley
invited us to try our chance of a preliminary supper before the repose of
the night. We had, however, much ado to descend the cavity, so steep was
the sandy slope; while its circular form and spiral marking reminded me
of Edgar Poe’s imaginative ‘Maelstrom.’ The Arabs to whom the
watch-fires belonged were shepherds of the numerous Shomer tribe, whence
the district, plain and mountain, takes its name. They welcomed us to a
share of their supper; and a good dish of rice, instead of insipid samh
or pasty, augured a certain approach to civilization.
“At break of day we resumed our march, and met with camels and
camel-drivers in abundance, besides a few sheep and goats. Before noon
we had got clear of the sandy patch, and entered in its stead on a firm
gravelly soil. Here we enjoyed an hour of midday halt and shade in a
natural cavern, hollowed out in a high granite rock, itself an advanced
guard of the main body of Djebel Shomer. This mountain range now rose
before us, wholly unlike any other that I had ever seen; a huge mass of
crag and stone, piled up in fantastic disorder, with green valleys and
habitations intervening. The sun had not yet set when we reached the
pretty village of Kenah, amid groves and waters—no more, however, running
streams like those of Djowf, but an artificial irrigation by means of
wells and buckets. At some distance from the houses stood a cluster of
three or four large overshadowing trees, objects of peasant veneration
here, as once in Palestine. The welcome of the inhabitants, when we
dismounted at their doors, was hearty and hospitable, nay, even polite
and considerate; and a good meal, with a dish of fresh grapes for
dessert, was soon set before us in the veranda of a pleasant little
house, much reminding me of an English farm-cottage, whither the good man
of the dwelling had invited us for the evening. All expressed great
desire to profit by our medical skill; and on our reply that we could not
conveniently open shop except at the capital, Ha’yel, several announced
their resolution to visit us there; and subsequently kept their word,
though at the cost of about twenty-four miles of journey.
“We rose very early. Our path, well tracked and trodden, now lay between
ridges of precipitous rock, rising abruptly from a level and grassy
plain; sometimes the road was sunk in deep gorges, sometimes it opened
out on wider spaces, where trees and villages appeared, while the number
of wayfarers, on foot or mounted, single or in bands, still increased as
we drew nearer to the capital. There was an air of newness and security
about the dwellings and plantations hardly to be found nowadays in any
other part of Arabia, Oman alone excepted. I may add also the great
frequency of young trees and ground newly enclosed, a cheerful sight, yet
further enhanced by the total absence of ruins, so common in the East;
hence the general effect produced by Djebel Shomer, when contrasted with
most other provinces or kingdoms around, near and far, is that of a newly
coined piece, in all its sharpness and shine, amid a dingy heap of
defaced currency. It is a fresh creation, and shows what Arabia might be
under better rule than it enjoys for the most part: an inference rendered
the more conclusive by the fact that in natural and unaided fertility
Djebel Shomer is perhaps the least favored district in the entire central
peninsula.
“We were here close under the backbone of Djebel Shomer, whose reddish
crags rose in the strangest forms on our right and left, while a narrow
cleft down to the plain-level below gave opening to the capital. Very
hard to bring an army through this against the will of the inhabitants
thought I; fifty resolute men could, in fact, hold the pass against
thousands; nor is there any other approach to Ha’yel from the northern
direction. The town is situated near the very centre of the mountains;
it was as yet entirely concealed from our view by the windings of the
road amid huge piles of rock. Meanwhile from Djobbah to Ha’yel the whole
plain gradually rises, running up between the sierras, whose course from
northeast to southwest crosses two-thirds of the upper peninsula, and
forms the outwork of the central high country. Hence the name of Nedjed,
literally ‘highland,’ in contradistinction to the coast and the outlying
provinces of lesser elevation.
“The sun was yet two hours’ distance above the western horizon, when we
threaded the narrow and winding defile, till we arrived at its farther
end. Here we found ourselves on the verge of a large plain, many miles
in length and breadth, and girt on every side by a high mountain rampart,
while right in front of us, at scarce a quarter of an hour’s march, lay
the town of Ha’yel, surrounded by fortifications of about twenty feet in
height, with bastion towers, some round, some square, and large folding
gates at intervals; it offered the same show of freshness, and even of
something like irregular elegance, that had before struck us in the
villages on our way. This, however, was a full-grown town, and its area
might readily hold three hundred thousand inhabitants or more, were its
streets and houses close packed like those of Brussels or Paris. But the
number of citizens does not, in fact, exceed twenty or twenty-two
thousand, thanks to the many large gardens, open spaces, and even
plantations, included within the outer walls, while the immense palace of
the monarch alone, with its pleasure-grounds annexed, occupies about
one-tenth of the entire city. Our attention was attracted by a lofty
tower, some seventy feet in height, of recent construction and oval form,
belonging to the royal residence. The plain all around the town is
studded with isolated houses and gardens, the property of wealthy
citizens, or of members of the kingly family, and on the far-off skirts
of the plain appear the groves belonging to Kafar, ’Adwah, and other
villages, placed at the openings of the mountain gorges that conduct to
the capital. The town walls and buildings shone yellow in the evening
sun, and the whole prospect was one of thriving security, delightful to
view, though wanting in the peculiar luxuriance of vegetation offered by
the valley of Djowf. A few Bedouin tents lay clustered close by the
ramparts, and the great number of horsemen, footmen, camels, asses,
peasants, townsmen, boys, women, and other like, all passing to and fro
on their various avocations, gave cheerfulness and animation to the
scene.
“We crossed the plain and made for the town gate, opposite the castle;
next, with no little difficulty, prevailed on our camels to pace the
high-walled street, and at last arrived at the open space in front of the
palace. It was yet an hour before sunset, or rather more; the business
of the day was over in Ha’yel, and the outer courtyard where we now stood
was crowded with loiterers of all shapes and sizes. We made our camels
kneel down close by the palace gate, alongside of some forty or fifty
others, and then stepped back to repose our very weary limbs on a stone
bench opposite the portal, and awaited what might next occur.”