of probably twenty-five acres, with high walls on the north, east
and south, apparently set aside for plays, prayers, public trade or
exchange and, possibly, a place of protection for Bedouin rovers.
It was a pretty place, and when at certain hours the priest calls
out his Allah song from the tower, to see hundreds of people drop on
their knees and faces in the attitude of worship is a sight long to be
remembered.
Our quarters, or jail, was a porch on the south, facing the open space
of which we were not allowed to step outside, except to the roof,
unless accompanied by officers.
After coffee and rest, I begged permission to be taken about town,
which was refused. Again I demanded to see the Sheik, which was always
granted. But the Sheik actually looked astonished, and smiled at my
audacity when Moses informed him that I wished to be shown through the
great temple of Allah, but he was courteous and explained that their
people, the Sheas, were very strict. They were better than the Seanees,
who would eat with foreigners, while the Sheas would throw away any
piece of furniture or dish once used by them. He finally consented for
the guard to take us through the streets we wished to visit, where I
found that they would sell their own manufacture, lace, rugs, bronze,
etc., to their own people only, but through strategy I purchased some
amber beads.
THE MAN I HAD SEEN BEFORE
While the officers were conducting us through the town I noticed a dark
fellow, whom I had somewhere seen before, following us and laughing at
my jokes, which were spoken to Moses mostly in English. When I spoke
to him he feigned not to understand English, and began drawing me out
of the few Arabic words which I had learned, at which he laughed and
said he could speak ten tongues, including English. He said he knew
all about me, but I had forgotten him. I then had Moses question him,
but could get so little satisfaction that we concluded he was a fake,
but he followed us and managed to advise me that I had better leave
Me-Schwab in the dark; also that the Sheik might not consent for us to
stay over again. Then I tried hard to think where I had seen him, but I
could not.
After we had been hustled back to our jail a party who owned the only
wooden-wheeled wagon in that world came to bargain with me to take us
to Karbilla. Two women, they said, were wanting to go with us, and we
had better go through in the night, to which I objected, but after much
wrangling we fixed on one o'clock in the morning for the start.
Again I appeared before the Sheik, for permission to visit the
Mohammedan cemeteries. He was reluctant, but finally consented, with
whispered instructions to the guard, who took us outside the gate to a
little hill, where we could see the graveyard about a mile distant, and
then hustled us right back to our pen.
At one o'clock, after we had swallowed our camel steak and coffee,
we were taken to the carry-all, where we found two masked women just
arriving, whom I knew were quite young by their movements. A soft rug
was stretched across to separate us from the women, who seemed to be
housekeeping in the rear flat of the wagon, and we in the front. As our
start was delayed, I snuggled back against the rug which partitioned
us from the females, and soon realized that someone on the other side
was snuggling up against me. When I aroused to inquire about our
departure she would speak to the other woman, then we would resume
our comfortable position, until her head dropped on my shoulder and
nature's sweet repose drove all our cares away--of course both of us
were asleep. Thus we waited until after light, all grumbling except us
who were asleep.
About sunrise the driver, with six Arabian steeds, in true Bedouin
style, circled the open space on a wild run, then dashing out through
the gates struck out for the north, which took us between the two
cemeteries to which we had been refused admittance the previous
evening. They ran the down grade at high speed, apparently so we could
not see the tombs; but, when just at the point of curiosity, one
wheel ran off and we were dumped in the sand, where the women lost
their masks. One of them looked slyly at me with her soul brim full
of laughter, as she placed her hands on my shoulders and shook me
playfully; I did not understand her affection, although under those
circumstances I appreciated it and wished we could each tell our story
to the other.
REAL BEDOUINS AFTER US
I concluded that this ruse was being given to intimidate me, but later
we experienced something more serious.
The road between Nazzip and Karbilla is supposed to be more safe than
the Koofa route, as it is guarded by squads of Turkish cavalry. At noon
we changed horses and ate barley cakes for dinner, cooked by slapping
the dough on the inside of a heated cement barrel. When we were ready
to start again we could not find out why we did not go.
We had now recrossed the desert and descended from the plateau into
the valley of the Messopotamia, where our trail ran between the Chebar
River and the cliffs on the west. All the while we had been waiting
our two drivers had remained on the cliffs, where we could not see
them, but I was not nervous, as I had become accustomed to waiting. Our
suspicion was not aroused until we started, when the drivers yelled
our six-horse team into a wild run, shaking the old crate wagon from
side to side, for about five miles, when we heard reports of firearms,
and suddenly came to a stop. Then the drivers, together with the
passengers, sisters and all, ran up the craggy steeps onto the open
plain, where in the distance we saw about ten Bedouins leaning on their
horses' necks running for dear life, followed by a squad of Turkish
cavalry who were firing at them with no effect, for they were too far
away.
I declared at once that it was a plot to frighten me out of the
Mohammedan Stamping Grounds, but our guard, who had been riding to the
west of our route all day, said that the teamsters who came down with
our carry-all from Karbilla a few days previous had killed a camel man
of the great herd which we were about to pass through, and that the
Bedouins were the dead man's friends from the camel camp, who intended
to kill all of us for revenge. Also, that the reason we stayed so long
in the night and where we lunched was for the cavalry to arrive from
Nazzip to chase the Bedouins away. Then I decided that, if our guard
had told the truth, the Arabs were not so bad after all.
We soon struck a herd of about 8,000 camels feeding on the grass and
briars along the Shat-El-Chebar. It was a sight to see them, with their
two or three hundred Arabian family tents, surrounded by horses, dogs,
goats, sheep, chickens and children, leading the sleepy life of our
wayside gypsies, seeming to have no inspiration for a change in their
condition, as one generation follows another. On each voyage, or tour,
said to occupy about five years, they go collecting camels at the
round-up on the wilds of the great desert and driving them to Persia,
of course selling and trading all the way along the creatures, both
human and dumb, reproducing on the way. The pasturage is free but the
government taxes are heavy, being nearly fifty per cent of the value of
the animal, which is paid in such stock as they own. Arabian herdsmen
are generous and hospitable, but, when aroused by what they consider
wrong, they are exceedingly ferocious. We camped with them several
days, and if I had a better grip on their language I would like to
travel a year or two in one of those herdsmen's caravans and write them
up as the family from which Abraham was called, for from the time of
the historical events of Abraham to now there has probably been little
or no change in their daily life. Their helpfulness and hospitality,
without expecting recompense, often reminded me of the story of Moses
helping the Midian girls to water their flocks.
SUSPICION AROUSED
Upon my return to Bagdad the Consul took me home to dinner, where he
related a long, amusing story, of which I will make a short one. He
said that the morning after I left Bagdad the Turkish Emissary from
Constantinople sent his deputy to him to inquire who the stranger from
America was and what he wanted, to which the Consul referred to my
passport, which had been presented to them, and then told them all he
knew about me. Again, in the evening, they sent to him to learn where
I had gone, whereupon Hurner, thinking I would be more likely to go
to Niffer than the interior, told them I had gone to visit my United
States friend who was exploring the ruins at that place.
Again they sent, to inquire if any treasure had been found at Niffer,
to which the Consul jokingly replied, "Why, haven't you heard that they
have found a subterranean pocket of valuables? And I suppose Richardson
is here to take them out of the country by way of the Persian Gulf.
I hear he has several camels on the spot; but this is all hearsay,
through the Bedouins, and may not be true."
In less than an hour, said Hurner, two hundred cavalry, with shining
sabres, were on the dash over the sixty miles of straight across desert
sand to intercept the American thief. Their approach was a surprise to
the old Bostonian, who was simply examining each brick as they came
out of the debris, and innocently declared he had seen no treasure or
anything of the American.
JONA AND HIS WIVES
The next morning I received a caller whom I recognized at once as the
stranger I had met in Nazzip. After I inquired how he got to Bagdad so
soon, he told me he had joined the horsemen from Nazzip who protected
me. I asked him what he meant by saying he knew me.
"Were you at Jask, Persia?" he began.
"Yes," I said, "Jask is where I saw, in the distance, those rocky,
book-like mountains, so beautiful."
"Did you go ashore?"
"I did."
"Did you see me?"
"No."
"On your return to the steamer did you assist two Mohammedan women?"
"I did. Americans always assist the ladies."
"Did you go ashore at Bahrein, Arabia?"
I said, "Yes, that is where S. M. Zwemer, a missionary from the
Dutch Reform Church of Holland, Michigan, rode with us on donkeys to
Riggeb-Gem, that ruin more ancient than Babylon."
"On the return to the steamer did you assist those women again?"
"I did, I stood in the water to my hips and assisted each from their
wet donkey to the barge. When on board one gave me a pomegranite, and
when she saw I did not know what it was, she took it from me with a
laugh and fixed it with sugar so I could eat it."
"Those women, stranger, were my wives. Did you know that your frankness
gained their affection?"
"Your wives! Gee-whiz, were those women at Me-Schwad the same women I
met on the steamer? Say, friend, where did you come from, and where are
you going?"
"My name is Jona. I am a nabob, my home is the desert thirty days
journey from Muscat, but we will not burden each other with our
history. I have learned that you are bound for Tadmor, and so am I.
Now, can you tell me anything more about the last days of Jesus of
Nazareth and the last days of Mary Magdalene than is found in your
testament, with which I am familiar?"
I hesitated, and then said: "I did not come into this country as a
missionary, I came to study the people. I would not interfere with your
Mohammedan faith."
"You Christians mistake our position in regard to Jesus. Jesus, as
Mohammed, was a wonderful spiritual teacher from the living God, but
until all worshipers of the spiritual God drop their materialism,
of which the resurrection of the physical body of Jesus is the most
ungodlike, this world will continue to be the abode of ignorance, which
is the generator of sin; but enough on that score for now, for I intend
to join you on your journey to Tadmor, and I trust you will hereafter
pass my wives unnoticed."
"If I see one of your wives falling, head downward from a camel, shall
I save her from breaking her neck?"
"Not if she falls intentionally; but let us return to the object of my
call, the story of Mary Magdalene and Jesus in their last days."
"Mary Magdalene was all right, friend, but how about your girl wife,
who shook me so fondly when I saw her face?"
"Oh, she admired your frankness; she is mad, so please pass her
unnoticed on our journey to Tadmor. Now to change the subject.
"All organized nations, Syria not being the least, after the fame of
Jesus spread abroad, sent scribes to listen at his feet and report,
which report was included in the collection for our Family Tree Tribe,
with a record of the life and death of Mary Magdalene in which she
shines forth as a feminine beauty of wonderful spiritual comprehension.
This report, with that of the destruction of Jerusalem and the final
attempt to crush out Christianity, has been carried by us in tradition
but lost in record for many centuries. Lately we have been told that
the original manuscripts still exist in the ruins of our ancient
citadel in Tadmor (Palmyra.)
THE RECHABITES
"We styled ourselves Rechabites because we lived in open air, drank no
wine and mingled with no other tribes. We descended from Adam through
the Kenites. Our rendezvous at the time of David was at Jabes, but in
the days of Jeremiah we came to Tadmor, where we assembled yearly to
pay tithes for over a thousand years.
"Now we are dispersed throughout the Orient, and pay no tithes, yet we
hold sacred our peaceful attitude toward strangers, our education as
scribes, our nomad life and our abhorrence to strong drink. The family
tree is disappearing, for we are intermarrying; even my mother was an
Indian from Karachi.
"My object in this journey is, if possible, to collect the Aramaic
manuscripts of the tribe, that they may be handed down in an unbroken
line, thus completing our family tree. I can tell you more particulars
about our people, and many incidents about Mary Magdalene, even if we
do not find the manuscripts. For we will journey together."
"Please let me ask you one question, Mr. Jona, and then you can
proceed. Do you intend me to understand that you expect to find the
original report or document at Tadmor, or is it a legend of a later
author of your tribe who was familiar with traditional accounts of
Jesus and Mary Magdalene?"
"I do not want you to understand anything only that I hope to find
manuscripts which will satisfy all that Jesus of Nazareth was a
spiritual representative of God, and that after His death He appeared
to Mary Magdalene."
"I understand you now, go on about your rendezvous."
"As I said concerning our people, the Hebrews, who thought God had
chosen them to disseminate His love and care over this world, became
bigoted through priesthood and set up a cry that they were retainers
instead of disseminators. This caused a breach between us and the
Gentiles, who made war with us; but our tribe, the Rechabites, held
aloof, enjoying our nomad life until Babylonia, spurred on by Syria,
began preparations for that world-wide foraging tour toward Canaan.
Then our tribe, fearful of an onslaught, held council and decided to
take shelter within the walls of Jerusalem, and did so until Jehoiakim,
through Jeremiah, attempted to get us drunk, when we again held council
and decided to throw ourselves upon the mercy of the Babylonian King,
who in turn permitted us to assemble at Tadmor, exempt from army
service.
"Tadmor now became our home, and upon the brow of the mountain which
overlooks the city we excavated a broad and deep channel in the rock,
around a center on which we built a wonderful castle, the crown to the
gem of the desert, Tadmor. In its sacred archives were kept all the
manuscripts of our tribe. Since we abandoned it I have heard they still
call it by our family name, 'The Castle of the Rechabs.'
"Recently we have heard that some kind of documents or manuscripts
are still in keeping by a descendant of our clan, so my people have
deputized me to go on this journey."
"If it would be agreeable to you, Mr. Jona, I would like that we group
our sub-caravans for the journey."
"Thanks for your hospitality, but for reasons previously expressed
we will tent separately. You and I will ride side by side, that I
may enjoy the influence of your inspiring thoughts; but, really, you
would not enjoy the company of the woman, who you could neither see or
understand."
"Why in the d----l, Jona, do you not let them throw off those masks,
just for this journey, and allow the sweet sunshine, which the flowers
on the desert are permitted to enjoy, be experienced by your wives,
whom, by your barbarous custom, you place in dark coffins before they
die?"
"Oh, Mr. Richardson, I understand you all right, but my people would
not. Please do not mention that subject again. Now please attend to the
details of your wants for our journey with the Persian caravan, which
is now arriving, for we must be ready for the forward movement, which
will take place in about four days."
Not willing to let up on the subject, I continued: "Do your women ever
find fault with the way you treat them?"
"Yes, all women are dissatisfied."
"They are not. Our women at home are the sunshine of our lives."
"Please do not talk any more on that subject," he said as he wiped the
sweat from his neck with his flowing sleeve.
Many were the peculiar incidents in our caravan of over fifteen hundred
souls on our long journey of twenty-nine days up the Euphrates and over
the desert, all of which I must pass over, noticing only Jona and his
group as they appeared on the desert.
Jona, astride of his beautiful, fleet Arabian, was followed by a
mammoth black camel loaded down with about eight hundred pounds of
luggage. Following next was a tall, gaunt, mouse-colored camel on
which was a platform fastened to the saddle; of which, on either side
over the camel's sides, were attached covered seats which looked like
dog houses. In each of these dog houses was a wife, his favorite and
her assistant, Fatima. Each wore a veil over her head, jewels on her
fingers, ankles, wrists, ears and neck, attired in a loose wrapper.
Oriental nabobs usually travel with two wives, their favorite and her
assistant. The elder, in this case, was his favorite; she bossed him
around just like American wives do their husbands, not by force but
through influence; as Abraham obeyed Sarah, and sent the guileless
Hagar into the wilderness, regardless of his feelings.
A sort of Jacob's ladder, on which the women descended to and
from their roost, was among the luggage on the pack camel, and
notwithstanding the charge of my Rechabite friend that I was not to
disquiet his wives, I continually placed the ladder and assisted Fatima
and his favorite to ascend as soon as we struck camp; for if I had not,
Jona was liable to leave his wives and other luggage on the camel until
we had been on the sand for an hour. Fatima and I were usually side
by side evenings, when her aptness in catching the English words and
returning them to me in Arabic surprised me.
SLEEPING BEAUTY OF THE DESERT
On the twenty-eighth day, about eleven o'clock P. M., weary from the
long day journey, I dined again on tea and toast, and with my boots on
dropped on my cot, just for a moment; and seemingly before the moment
had passed the morning sun peeped in and awoke me from my sweet dream
of home. I awoke Jona, and while the camp still slumbered we ascended
a rise of ground to gaze on that silent form of grandeurs which lay
before us, full twenty miles away. As far as the eye could penetrate,
north and south, the Syrian highlands, long known as the haunt of
the most ferocious Bedouins, loomed up, where about in the center,
seemingly imbedded in the glistening cliff, lay the ruins of the once
proud city of Tadmor, the queen of the desert. For, while Nineveh and
Babylon at their best were old gray monks, Tadmor, in the days of
David, with her stately granite columns from the Nile, coquetted with
the morning sun like a maiden in her teens.
Breakfast again of tea and toast, when Jona and I, with a guard of
twelve horsemen, started for a run over the hilly plain which lay
between us and the ruins, leaving the wives and other luggage to come
along with the caravan, which would reach Tadmor some time before next
morning. Before starting I promised our escorts a piece of silver each
if we should reach the ruins in an hour.
The morning was bright and the ride was inspiring, but very tame
compared to the wild ride at Nazzip, for we ran steadily on over the
sand-drifted desert, while the sweat on the horses' necks soon worked
into a foam; and although the distance was nearer twenty-five than
twenty miles, we reined up to the temple of the sun in about ninety
minutes, when I gave two pieces of silver to each, for which they
carried me in their arms through the ancient archway where there were
once swinging gates nearly sixty feet in height, through which Solomon
had many times passed. Then they lugged me to the market and coaxed me
to buy them a camel bone for soup, which I did, on the promise that I
was to have some of the soup, but I forgot to come around on time.
[Illustration: RUINS OF TADMOR, WHERE I BADE FAREWELL TO JONA, HIS
FAVORITE, AND THE GRATEFUL FATIMA.]
THE ABANDONED CASTLE
Jona, as I expected, found the castle, but no relative in Tadmor;
nor anyone who had ever heard who built or occupied the Fort-Castle
on the rocks overlooking the city. I then questioned him again as to
whether there had ever been such a family tradition concerning Mary
Magdalene as he had related, to which he stoutly maintained there had
been, and that Mary Magdalene, the fair Galilean Goddess whose life was
interwoven into the family of Jesus of Nazareth, had once been a bright
feature in the traditional tree of the Rechabites, but when or by whom
it was introduced he did not know.
With Jona's plat of the ancient ruins, we passed up through the once
beautiful city, where the immense granite columns from Egypt still
stand single, in groups and in lines, retaining their caps, crowns and
arches.
As described by Jona, we found upon the hill which overlooks the city
the once elegant rock castle, surrounded by a deep water channel
quarried from the solid rock, as before described, but, apparently, no
one had lived there for ages.
Then, by following his plat west of the city proper, we found ancient
family tombs as he had described, but the receptacles for the dead,
four tiers high, were empty, save as a retreat for bats and owls. Still
we found no documents concerning Jesus, and Jona's journey to Tadmor
with his two wives was, as far as Jesus and the Goddess of Galilee were
concerned, a complete failure. Unless his many evenings spent with
me, relating the disjointed traditional reminiscences concerning Mary
Magdalene, satisfies others as it does me of the heroic, unremitting
zeal of woman when clouds of sorrow overshadow the day.
In parting from my Bedouin friends I shook hands with the three,
and got one more good squeeze from Jona's disobedient Fatima. Then,
according to Oriental custom, Jona hugged and kissed me. Females of the
desert who are not Mohammedans are accustomed to kiss at will, the same
as the men do. Jona was a kind-hearted, truthful old Arab. His wife's
affection for me was pure desire for soul liberty, like a bird confined
in a cage while other birds play in the trees.
MARY MAGDALENE
While the orb of day is kissing a fond adieu to the Syrina highland
which overlooks the great city Tandmor with its two million
inhabitants, two sojourners from the far East, with their usual escort,
turn in beside the fast flowing stream of hot water which still gushed
forth from under the once beautiful city of the desert.
The fleet and pack animals gently kneel to be relieved of their burden,
for even the patient ships of the desert become weary on their long
journeys over the trackless, sand blown wilds.
Long after the hum of the city had ceased and the silence above had
thrown its dark mantle over the sleeping face of nature, we sat by
the babbling brook discussing the strange report, which for nearly
two years had been heralded from the vine clad hills of Canaan, to
the effect that one Jesus of Nazareth, a carpenter, was imbued with
spiritual power to the extent that he was healing all manner of
diseases, and of late had raised a damsel twelve years old from the
dead.
Next day, while crossing the Desert of Hor, we could see Tandmor when
twenty miles away, and on the fifth day we reached Palestine. The
evening we arrived at Capernaum we found the west shore of the Sea
of Galilee from the ford of the Jordan north to the hot springs of
Tiberias, south, as well as the western hillside, literally strewn with
groups of wise men from different parts of the world, together with
the high and low of the Hebrew clan.