DISEMBARKATION AT CAPE ADEN.

Quitting the boisterous deck of the steamer, and pulling towards the

shores of Arabia, a cluster of barren rocks, which might fitly be

likened to heaps of fused coal out of a glass furnace, present an

appearance very far from inviting or prepossessing. They are little

relieved by a few straggling cadjan buildings, temporarily occupied by

those whose avocations enable them, during the summer months, to fly the

intolerable heat of the oven-like town. But under the roof of Captain

Stafford Haines, who fills the honourable and responsible post of

Political Agent, there awaited the embassy, on its landing, a

hospitality of no ordinary stamp. It literally knew no bounds, and

could not fail to obliterate at once any unfavourable first impression

arising out of the desolate aspect bestowed by Dame Nature upon "Steamer

Point."

A volunteer escort of European artillerymen was yet to be obtained from

the garrison of Aden; horses, too, were to be purchased, and sundry

other indispensable preparations made for the coming journey into the

interior of Africa. During a full week there seemed no termination to

the influx of bags containing dates, rice, and juwarree, and scarcely a

shorter period was occupied in the selection from the government

treasury of many thousand star-dollars of the reign of Maria Theresa,

displaying, each in its turn, all the multifarious marks and tokens most

esteemed by the capricious savage. Neither was the bustle one whit

diminished by the remote position of the town, which, unless through the

kindness of friends, is only to be attained on the back of one of the

many diminutive donkeys stationed along the beach for the convenience of

the stranger. Encumbered with a straw-stuffed pack-saddle far exceeding

its own dimensions, the wretched quadruped is zealously bastinadoed into

a painful amble by the heavy club of some juvenile Israelite with

flowing auburn ringlets, whose chubby freckled cheeks, influenced by the

sultry sun no less than by the incessant manual labour employed, are

wont to assume a strangely excited appearance ere the journey be at an

end.

Along the entire coast of Southern Arabia, there is not a more

remarkable feature than the lofty promontory of Aden, which has been

flung up from the bed of the ocean, and in its formation is altogether

volcanic. The Arab historian [Masudi] of the tenth century, after

speaking of the volcanoes of Sicily and in the kingdom of the Maha Raj,

alludes to it as existing in the desert of Barhut, adjacent to the

province of Nasafan and Hadramaut, in the country of Shaher. "Its

sound, like the rumbling of thunder, might then be heard many miles, and

from its entrails were vomited forth red-hot stones with a flood of

liquid fire." The skeleton of the long-exhausted crater, once, in all

probability, a nearly perfect circle, now exhibits a horse-shoe-shaped

crescent, hemmed in by splintered crags, which, viewed from the turreted

summit of Jebel Shemshan especially, whence the eye ranges over the

entire peninsula, presents the wildest chaos of rock, ruin, and

desolation.

From the landing-place at Ras Marbut, a tortuous track of five miles

conducts past the coal-depot and Seedie location, along various

curvatures of the arid coast, to the cantonment and town of Aden.

"Sublime in barrenness," the rugged and lofty cliffs pile themselves

upward in masses of the most fantastic shape, now bare and bald,

shooting into perpendicular spires, and now leaning over the caravan of

heavily-laden camels that toil along the path. The sunshine of

perpetual summer reigns throughout the scene. Glittering sand-hills

slumber in breezy dimness around the land-locked harbour, and over the

faint peaks of Yemen's distant mountains the unclouded sky floats bright

and blue. The sparkling waters leap against the dark base of the naked

islets; but the wide glassy surface beyond, reposing like a broad lake,

is only ruffled by the circling eddy which follows the sportive plash of

the bottle-nosed porpoise, or the pluming of a fleet of silver-winged

terns, riding quietly at anchor on its tranquil bosom. As the road

retires from the beach, the honey-combed cliff's assume the similitude

of massive wads and battlements, every where pierced with loopholes and

embrasures. A gradual ascent leads through a craggy portal, bristling

with cannon, and guarded by the pacing sentinel. One narrow rift in the

solid rock, to the foot of which the sun rarely penetrates, forms an

abrupt division in the chain, and beyond it the eye suddenly embraces

the basin-like valley wherein stands the decayed capital of Arabia

Felix.

"Aden," saith old Ibn Batuta of Tangiers, "is situate upon the

sea-shore--a large city, without either seed, water, or tree." Five

hundred years have elapsed since this graphic account was penned, and

the vegetation has in nowise improved. An amphitheatre of dimensions

sufficient for the Devil's punch-bowl is formed by two volcanic ranges,

once in connection, but obviously rent asunder, heaved outwards, and

canted in opposite directions by some violent eruption that has forced

an opening to the ocean. A sterility which is not to be surpassed

invests the scene with an aspect most repulsive and forbidding. No tree

varies the dreary prospect, no shrub relieves the eye, not even a flower

lends its aid to enliven the wild and gloomy hollow, the fittest refuge

that the imagination could picture for the lawless and the desperate.

Fortifications are to be traced on every point either liable to assault

or eligible for defence: ruined castles and watch-towers perched on the

highest elevations of the precipitous hills stand the now inaccessible

guardians of other days; and even the limited view to seaward, where the

passing white sail of a small coasting craft, or the catamaran of the

amphibious fisherman may occasionally be seen, is partially screened by

a triangular rock, which frowns like a great spectre over the inner

harbour. Seerah, "the fortified black islet," is said to have been the

residence of Cain, "the first born of a woman," after the murder of his

brother Abel; and, verily, it would be difficult to devise a more

appropriate exile for the banished fratricide. Hurled into the sea by a

convulsive shock, it is surrounded by pumice and by currents of

obsidian, the products of volcanic emission, strewed among vast

undulating waves of cavernous lava, or mingled with black masses of

porous rock, which bear evidence of fusion, and yield to the touch a

metallic sound.

Sterility has indeed claimed this dreary region as her own; and even in

the more productive portions of the peninsula, little verdure is derived

from the almost leafless Besham, the _Balsamodendron Opobalsamum_, a

dwarf shrub, which, according to the Arab tradition, formed a part of

the present carried to King Solomon by the Queen of Sheba from the

aromatic regions of myrrh and frankincense. Where incisions are made in

its stem, the far-famed Balm of Mecca flows copiously, but the volatile

oil quickly evaporating, leaves a tasteless insipid gum. Nursed by no

periodical shower and by no hidden spring, the precious plant, scorched

by a withering blast, derives its only moisture from the mists which

envelope the mountain-top, when all is sunshine below.

Among the most singular features of the Cape is the supply of water,

which is found only in the valley of Aden, close under the cliffs, and

at the openings of the fissures from the steppes above. Here, piercing

to a great depth through the solid rock, are upwards of one hundred

wells; many dilapidated and choked up, but others yielding an abundant

and unfailing supply. Whence or in what manner they are fed it is

extremely difficult to conjecture. All near the beach are bad, and more

or less brackish; some are sensibly affected by the tides, and very

saline; whilst of those which afford sweet water, one only is visibly

acted upon by some lower spring. It is excavated at the entrance of a

dark gorge rent by some violent convulsion in the rugged bosom of

Shemshan, and the surface, which is in a state of constant commotion,

remains at the same level, although daily drawn upon from morning till

night for the supply of thousands.

The almost total absence of the vegetable kingdom considered, it is not

surprising that there should exist also a palpable deficiency in the

animal creation. In perhaps no other quarter of the universe are the

sparrow and the crow such perfect strangers. The pigeon, the fox, and

the rat, divide the sovereignty of the rocky cleft; and the serrated

heights are held without a rival by a garrison of monkeys. With these

long-tailed occupants of the tower-capped pinnacles are connected

wondrous superstitions, and an Aden tradition, extant throughout

Southern Arabia, would exalt them into the remnant of the once-powerful

tribe of Ad, "a people great, and strong, and tall," who are believed to

have been metamorphosed into apes, in token of the displeasure of

Heaven, when Sheddad, "the king of the world," illustrious in the annals

of the East, impiously sought, in defiance of the prophet Hud, to create

unto himself a garden which should rival the Celestial Paradise. The

Bostan el Irem, with its gorgeous palaces and shining domes, the

similitude whereof had never been constructed on the regions of the

earth, is said to be yet standing in the solitary deserts of Aden,

although miraculously concealed from mortal ken. Within the silent

walls of its lofty towers did Abdallah ibn Aboo Kelaba pass his night of

wonder during the reign of Moawiyeh, Prince of the Faithful; and it is

believed by every good Moslem that this marvellous fabric of human skill

and impiety, which finds a record in the sacred Koran, will endure until

the Last Day, an imperishable, but rarely revealed monument of Divine

retribution.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1. Lieutenant J.C. Cruttenden, assistant to the Political Agent at

Aden, heard the same version repeated at Saana, the capital of Yemen,

which far-famed city he has been the first European to visit, since the

days of Niebuhr.

Volume One, Chapter III.

The Highlands of Ethiopia · 第 6 / 130 题