“Come, Myrrha, let us go on to the Euphrates.”—BYRON.
We go in search of adventures—Taybetism—An hyæna hunt—How to cook
locusts—Hawking—The reservoirs of Zobeydeh—Tales, and legends—A _coup de
théâtre_—Mohammed composes a kasid.
_February_ 6.—We are tired of loitering with the Haj, and besides, do not
care to see more of Ibn Rashid, who is expected to-day. It is always a
good rule not to outstay your welcome, and to go when you have once said
good-bye. So, finding no indication of a move in the pilgrim camp this
morning, we decided on marching without them. We have not gone far;
indeed, from the high ground where we are camped we can see the smoke of
the camp rising up at the edge of the plain. There is capital pasture
here; and we have a fine wide prospect to the south and west; Jebel
Jildiyeh being now due south of us, and Jebel Aja west by south, Haïl
perhaps forty miles off; to the north the Nefûd, and behind us to the
east from the ridge above our camp, we can look over a subbkha six or
seven miles distant, with the oasis of Bekaa or Taybetism (happy be its
name) round its shores. The place had always been called Bekaa, we are
told, till a few years ago, when the name was thought unlucky, and
changed, though I cannot quite understand why, for the word means a place
where water can collect.
We flew our falcon to-day, and, after one or two disappointments, it
caught us a hare. The wadys are full of hares, but the dogs cannot see
them in the high bushes, and this was the only one started in the open.
We have encamped early, and are enjoying the solitude. The moon will be
full to-night; and it is provoking to think how much of its light has
been wasted by delay. The moon is of little use for travelling after it
is full.
_February_ 7.—Though we did not move our camp to-day, we had a long ride,
and got as far as the village of Taybetism, which is worth seeing. It is
a very curious place, resembling Jobba as far as situation goes. Indeed,
it seems probable that most of the towns of Nejd have in common this
feature, that they are placed in hollows towards which the water drains,
as it is in such positions that wells can be dug without much labour.
Like Jobba, Taybetism has a subbkha, but the latter is altogether a more
important oasis, for the palm-gardens reach nearly round the lake, and
though not quite continuous, they must have an extent of four or five
miles. The houses seem to be scattered in groups all along this length,
and there is no special town. {50} The geology of the district is most
interesting. At the edge of the subbkha the sandstone rocks form strange
fantastic cliffs, none more than fifty feet high, but most fanciful in
form. Some, shaped like mushrooms, show that the subbkha must at one
time have been an important lake, instead of the dry semblance of a lake
it now is. We measured the largest of these, and found it was forty feet
in length by twenty-five in width at top, with a stalk of only five feet,
the whole mass resting on a high pedestal. Other rocks looked as though
they had been suddenly cooled while boiling and red hot, with the bubbles
petrified as they stood. There were broad sheets of rose-coloured stone
like strawberry cream with more cream poured into it and not yet mixed,
streaked pink and white. Here and there, there were patches of Nefûd
sand with the green Nefûd adr growing on them, and clusters of wild palms
and tamarisks with a pool or two of bitter water. The subbkha, although
quite dry, looked like a lake, so perfect was the mirage, of clear blue
water without a ripple, reflecting the palms and houses on the opposite
shore. We went round to some of these, and found beautiful gardens and
well-to-do farms with patches of green barley growing outside. These
were watered from wells about forty-five feet deep, good water, which the
people drew for our mares to drink. We passed, but did not go into a
large square kasr belonging to Ibn Rashid, where a dozen or so of
dervishes from the Haj were loafing about. They asked us for
news—whether the Emir had come, and whether the Haj was still waiting.
These were most of them not Persian dervishes, though Shias, but from
Bagdad and Meshhed Ali, people of Arab race.
On our way back we crossed a party of Shammar Bedouins, with their camels
come for water from the Nefûd, which is close by. They gave us some
lebben to drink, the first we have tasted this year. There were women
with them. We also met a man alone on a very thin delúl. Mohammed made
some rather uncomplimentary remarks about this animal, whereupon the
owner in great scorn explained that she was a Bint Udeyhan, the very best
breed of dromedaries in Arabia, and that if Mohammed should offer him a
hundred pounds he would not sell her, that she was the camel always sent
by Ibn Rashid on messages which wanted speed. He then trotted off at a
pace which, though it appeared nothing remarkable, soon took him out of
sight.
Awwad and Ibrahim Kasir have been back to the Haj camp for water, and
have brought news that the Emir has actually arrived, and a message from
him, that if we go on to the wells of Shaybeh he will meet us there.
_February_ 8.—We have marched fifteen miles to-day from point to point,
making a circuit round Taybetism and are now encamped at the top of the
Nefûd. A Shammar boy of the name of Izzar with three delúls came back
from the Haj camp yesterday with Awwad, and he undertakes to show us the
way if we want to go on in front. He would sooner travel with us than
with the Haj, as his beasts are thin, and he is afraid of their being
impressed for the pilgrims. He wants to drive them unloaded to Meshhed,
so that they may grow fat on the way, and then load them for the home
voyage with wheat. He talks about six or seven days to Meshhed; but
Wilfrid insists that we are not twenty miles nearer Meshhed than when we
left Haïl, as we have been travelling almost due east, instead of nearly
due north, and there must be four hundred miles more to go. This should
take us twenty days at least. But the servants will not believe. We
shall see who is right. They and Mohammed are very unwilling to go on
before the Haj, but now that we have got this boy Izzar we are determined
not to wait. If we delay we shall run short of provisions, which would
be worse than anything. Already, Awwad says, the pilgrims are
complaining loudly that they shall starve if they are kept longer waiting
in this way. They have brought provisions for so many days and no more,
and there is no place now where they can revictual. “The Haj,” added
Awwad, “is sitting by the fire, very angry.”
Our march to-day was enlivened by some hunting, though with no good
result. Sayad and Shiekha coursed a herd of gazelles, and succeeded in
turning them, but could not get hold of any, though one passed close to
Mohammed, who fired without effect. They made off straight for the
Nefûd. The falcon was flown at a houbara (frilled bustard), but the
bustard beat him off, as he is only a last year’s bird, and not entered
to anything but hares. Rasham, however, is an amusement to us and sits
on his perch at our tent door. This spot is pleasant and lonely, within
a hundred yards of the edge of the Nefûd.
_February_ 9.—Having sent Izzar to a high point for a last look back for
the Haj and in vain, we have given them up and now mean to march straight
on without them. It is however annoying that we are still going east
instead of north, coasting the Nefud I suppose to get round instead of
crossing it; but we dare not plunge into it against Izzar’s positive
assurance that the other is the only way. Soil sprinkled with _jabsin_
(talc), and in places with the fruit of the wild poisonous melon. Passed
the well of Beyud (eggs) thirty feet deep, and travelled six and a half
hours, perhaps eighteen miles, to our present camp absolutely without
incident. Looking at the stars to-night, Mohammed tells me they call
Orion’s belt “mizan” (the balance), and the pole star “el jiddeh” (the
kid). We now have milk every day from Izzar’s she-camel, a great luxury.
_February_ 10.—At eight o’clock we reached the wells of Shaybeh. There
are forty of them close together in the middle of a great bare space,
with some hills of white sand to the north of them. The wind was blowing
violently, drifting the sand, and the place looked as inhospitable a one
as could well be imagined, a good excuse for over-ruling all notions of
stopping there, “to wait for the Emir.”
Shaybeh stands on the old Haj road which passes east of Haïl, making
straight for Bereydeh in Kasîm, and the reason of our travelling so far
east is thus explained. Now we have turned at right angles northwards,
and there is a well-defined track which it will be easy enough for us to
follow, even if we lose our Shammar guide. After leaving the wells, we
travelled for some miles between ridges of white sand, which the wind was
shaping “like the snow wreaths in the high Alps.” The white sand, I
noticed, is always of a finer texture than the red, and is more easily
affected by the wind. It carries, moreover, very little vegetation, so
that the mounds and ridges are less permanent than those of the Nefûd.
While we were watching them, the wind shifted, and it was interesting to
observe how the summits of the ridges gradually changed with it, the lee
side being always steep, the wind side rounded. We gradually ascended
now through broken ground to the edge of a level gravelly plain, beyond
which about four miles distant we could see the red line of the real
Nefûd. We had nearly crossed this, when we sighted an animal half a mile
away, and galloped off in pursuit, Mohammed following. I thought at
first it must be a wolf or a wild cow, but as we got nearer to it, we saw
that it was a hyæna, and it seemed to be carrying something in its mouth.
The dogs now gave chase, and the beast made off as fast as it could go
for the broken ground we had just left, and where it probably had its
den, dropping in its hurry the leg of a gazelle, the piece of booty it
was bringing with it from the Nefûd. The three greyhounds boldly
attacked it, Sayad especially seizing it at the shoulder, but they were
unable to stop it, and it still went on doggedly intent on gaining the
broken ground. It would have escaped had not we got in front and barred
the way. Then it doubled back again, and we managed to drive it before
us towards where we had left our camels. I never saw so cowardly a
creature, for though much bigger than any dog, it never offered to turn
round and defend itself as a boar or even a jackal would have done, and
the dogs were so persistent in their attacks, that Wilfrid had great
difficulty in getting a clear shot at it, which he did at last, rolling
it over as it cantered along almost under the feet of our camels. Great
of course were the rejoicings, for though Mohammed and Awwad affected
some repugnance, Abdallah declared boldly and at once, that hyena was
“khosh lahm,” capital meat. So it was flayed and quartered on the spot.
I confess the look of the carcass was not appetising, the fat with which
it was covered being bright yellow, but hyænas in the desert are not the
ghoul-like creatures they become in the neighbourhood of towns, and on
examination the stomach was found to be full of locusts and fresh gazelle
meat. Wilfrid pronounces it eatable, but I, though I have just tasted a
morsel, could not bring myself to make a meal off it. I perceive that in
spite of protestations about unclean food, the whole of this very large
and fat animal has been devoured by our followers. I am not sure whether
Mohammed kept his resolution of abstaining.
Locusts are now a regular portion of the day’s provision with us, and are
really an excellent article of diet. After trying them in several ways,
we have come to the conclusion that they are best plain boiled. The long
hopping legs must be pulled off, and the locust held by the wings, dipped
into salt and eaten. As to flavour this insect tastes of vegetable
rather than of fish or flesh, not unlike green wheat in England, and to
us it supplies the place of vegetables, of which we are much in need.
The red locust is better eating than the green one. {57} Wilfrid
considers that it would hold its own among the _hors d’œuvre_ at a Paris
restaurant; I am not so sure of this, for on former journeys I have
resolved that other excellent dishes should be adopted at home, but
afterwards among the multitude of luxuries, they have not been found
worth the trouble of preparation. For catching locusts, the morning is
the time, when they are half benumbed by the cold, and their wings are
damp with the dew, so that they cannot fly; they may then be found
clustered in hundreds under the desert bushes, and gathered without
trouble, merely shovelled into a bag or basket. Later on, the sun dries
their wings and they are difficult to capture, having intelligence enough
to keep just out of reach when pursued. Flying, they look extremely like
May flies, being carried side-on to the wind. They can steer themselves
about as much as flying fish do, and can alight when they like; in fact,
they very seldom let themselves be drifted against men or camels, and
seem able to calculate exactly the reach of a stick. This year they are
all over the country, in enormous armies by day, and huddled in regiments
under every bush by night. They devour everything vegetable; and are
devoured by everything animal: desert larks and bustards, ravens, hawks,
and buzzards. We passed to-day through flocks of ravens and buzzards,
sitting on the ground gorged with them. The camels munch them in with
their food, the greyhounds run snapping after them all day long, eating
as many as they can catch. The Bedouins often give them to their horses,
and Awwad says that this year many tribes have nothing to eat just now
but locusts and camels’ milk; thus the locust in some measure makes
amends for being a pestilence, by being himself consumed.
We are encamped to-night once more in the Nefûd, amongst the same
herbage, and at the edge of one of the same kind of fuljes, we were
accustomed to on our way from Jôf. This Nefûd however, is intermittent,
as there are intervening tracts of bare ground, between the ridges of
sand which here very distinctly run east and west. The sand is not more
than eighty feet deep, and the fuljes are insignificant compared with
what we saw further west.
_February_ 11.—Some boys with camels joined us last night, Bedouins from
the Abde tribe of Shammar, on their way to meet the Haj, as they have
been ordered up by Ibn Rashid. They have given us some information about
the road. Ibn Duala is five days’ journey on; but we shall find the
Dafir, with their Sheykh, Ibn Sueyti, on the second day. Ibn Sueyti,
they say, has a kind of _uttfa_ like Ibn Shaalan’s, but it is pitched
like a tent when a battle is to be fought. The Ajman, near Queyt, have a
real uttfa with ostrich feathers and a girl to sing during the fighting.
{59} They also narrated the following remarkable tale.
There is, they say, in the desert, five days’ march from here to the
eastwards, and ten days from Suk es Shiôkh on the Euphrates, a kubr or
tomb, the resting-place of a prophet named Er Refay. It is called
Tellateyn el Kharab (the two hills of the ruins), and near it is a birkeh
or tank always full of water. The tomb has a door which stands open, but
round it there sleeps all day and all night a huge snake, whose mouth and
tail nearly meet, leaving but just room for anyone to pass in. This it
prevents unless the person presenting himself for entrance is a dervish,
and many dervishes go there to pray. Inside there is a well, and those
who enter are provided (“min Allah”) for three days with food, three
times a day, but on the fourth they must go. A lion is chained up by the
neck inside the kubr.
The birkeh outside is always full of water, but its shores are inhabited
by snakes, who spit poison into the pool so that nothing can drink there.
But at evening comes the ariel (a fabulous antelope), who strikes the
water with his horns, and by so doing makes it sweet. Then all the
beasts and birds of the desert follow him, and drink. The Sheykh of the
Montefyk is bound to send camels and guides with all dervishes who come
to him at Suk-es-Shiôkh to make the pilgrimage to Refay. The boys did
not say that they had themselves seen the place.
We are not on the high road now, having left it some miles to the right,
and our march to-day has been mostly through Nefûd. The same swarms of
locusts everywhere, and the same attendant flocks of birds, especially of
fine black buzzards, one of which Abdallah was very anxious to secure if
possible, as he says the wing bones are like ivory, and are used for
inlaying the stocks of guns and stems of pipes. But he had no success,
though he fired several times. Wilfrid was more fortunate, however, in
getting what we value more, a bustard, and the very best bird we ever
ate. Though they are common enough here, it is seldom that they come
within shot, but this one was frightened by the hawk, and came right
overhead.
About noon, we came to a solitary building, standing in the middle of the
Nefûd, called Kasr Torba. It is square, with walls twenty feet high, and
has a tower at each corner. It is garrisoned by four men, soldiers of
Ibn Rashid’s, who surlily refused us admittance, and threatened to fire
on us if we drew water from the well outside. For a moment we thought of
storming the place, which I believe we could have done without much
difficulty, as the door was very rotten and we were all very angry and
thirsty, but second thoughts are generally accepted as best in Arabia,
and on consideration, we pocketed the affront and went on.
Soon afterwards, we overtook a young man and his mother, travelling with
three delúls in our direction. They were on the look-out, they said, for
their own people, who were somewhere in the Nefûd, they didn’t quite know
where. There are no tracks anywhere, however, and they have stopped for
the night with us. Very nice people, the young fellow attentive and kind
to his mother, making her a shelter under a bush with the camel saddles.
They are Shammar, and have been on business to Haïl.
_February_ 12.—Our disappointment about water yesterday, has forced us
back on to the Haj road and the wells of Khuddra, thirteen or fourteen
miles east of last night’s camp. We had, however, some sport on our way.
First, a hare was started and the falcon flown. The Nefûd is so covered
with bushes, that without the assistance of the bird the dogs could have
had no chance, for it was only by watching the hawk’s flight that they
were able to keep on the hare’s track. It was a pretty sight, the bird
above doubling as the hare doubled, and the three dogs below following
with their noses in the air. We made the best of our way after them, but
the sand being very deep they were soon out of sight. Suddenly we came
to the edge of the Nefûd, and there, a few hundred yards from the foot of
the last sand-bank, we saw the falcon and the greyhounds all sitting in a
circle on the ground, watching a large hole into which the hare had just
bolted. The four pursuers looked so puzzled and foolish, that in spite
of the annoyance of losing the game, we could not help laughing. Hares
in the desert always go to ground. Mohammed and Abdallah and Awwad were
keen for digging out this one, and they all worked away like navvies for
more than half an hour, till they were up to their shoulders in the sandy
earth (here firm ground), but it was in vain, the hole was big enough for
a hyæna, and reached down into the rock below. Further on, however, we
had better luck, and having run another hare to ground, pulled out not
only it, but a little silver grey fox, where they were both crouched
together. I do not think the hares ever dig holes, but they make use of
any they can find when pressed. We also coursed some gazelles.
There are fourteen wells at Khuddra, mere holes in the ground, without
parapet or anything to mark their position, and as we drew near, we were
rather alarmed at finding them occupied by a large party of Bedouins. It
looked like a ghazú, for there were as many men as camels, thirty or
forty of them with spears; and the camels wore shedads instead of pack
saddles. They did not, however, molest us, though their looks were far
from agreeable. They told us they were Dafir waiting like the rest for
the Haj; that their Sheykh, Ibn Sueyti, was still two days’ march to the
eastwards, beyond Lina, which is another group of wells something like
these; and they added, that they had heard of us and of our presents to
the Emir, the rifle which fired twelve shots, and the rest. It is
extraordinary how news travels in the desert. I noticed that Mohammed
when questioned by them, said that he was from Mosul, and he explained
afterwards that the Tudmur people had an old standing blood feud with the
Dafir in consequence of some ghazú made long before his time, in which
twenty of the latter were killed. {63} This has decided us not to pay
Ibn Sueyti the visit we had intended. It appears that there has been a
battle lately between the Dafir and the Amarrat (Ánazeh), in which a
member of the Ibn Haddal family was killed. This proves that the Ánazeh
ghazús sometimes come as far south as the Nefûd. These wells are seventy
feet deep, and the water when first drawn smells of rotten eggs; but the
smell goes off on exposure to the air.
The zodiacal light is very bright this evening; it is brightest about two
hours after sunset, but though I have often looked out for it, I have
never seen it in the morning before sunrise. It is a very remarkable and
beautiful phenomenon, seen only, I believe, in Arabia. It is a cone of
light extending from the horizon half-way to the zenith, and is rather
brighter than the Milky Way.
_February_ 13.—We have travelled quite twenty-four miles to-day, having
had nothing to distract our attention from the road, and have reached the
first of the reservoirs of Zobeydeh.
To my surprise this, instead of being on low ground, is as it were on the
top of a hill. At least, we had to ascend quite two hundred feet to get
to it, though there was higher ground beyond. It is built across a
narrow wady of massive concrete, six feet thick, and is nearly square,
eighty yards by fifty. The inside descends in steps for the convenience
of those who come for water, but a great rent in the masonry has let most
of this out, and now there is only a small mud-hole full of filthy water
in the centre. We found some Arabs there with their camels, who went
away when they saw us, but we sent after them to make inquiries, and
learnt that they were Beni Wáhari, a new artificial compound tribe of
Sherârat, Shammar and others, made up by Ibn Rashid with a slave of his
own for their Sheykh. They are employed in taking care of camels and
mares for the Emir. They talk of eight days’ journey now to Meshhed Ali,
but Wilfrid says it cannot be less than fifteen or sixteen.
Mohammed, who has been very anxious to make himself agreeable, now he is
quite away from Haïl influences, has been telling us a number of stories
and legends, all more or less connected with his birthplace Tudmur. He
has a real talent as a narrator, an excellent memory, and that most
valuable gift, the manner of a man who believes what he relates. Here is
one of his tales, a fair specimen of the extraordinary mixture of fable
and historic tradition to be found in all of them:
Suliman ibn Daoud (Solomon, son of David) loved a Nasraniyeh (a Christian
woman), named the Sitt Belkis, {65} and married her. This Christian lady
wished to have a house between Damascus and Irak (Babylonia), because the
air of the desert was good, but no such a house could be found. Then
Solomon, who was king of the birds as well as king of men, sent for all
the birds of the air to tell him where he should look for the place
Belkis desired, and they all answered his summons but one, Nissr (the
eagle), who did not come. And Solomon asked them if any knew of a spot
between Damascus and Irak, in the desert where the air was good. But
they answered that they knew of none. And he counted them to see if all
were there, and found that the eagle was missing. Then he sent for the
eagle, and they brought him to Solomon, and Solomon asked him why he had
disobeyed the first summons. And Nissr answered, that he was tending his
father, an old eagle, so old that he had lost all his feathers, and could
not fly or feed himself unless his son was there. And Solomon asked
Nissr if he knew of the place wanted by Belkis; and Nissr answered that
his father knew, for he knew every place in the world, having lived four
thousand years. And Solomon commanded that he should be brought before
him in a box, for the eagle could not fly. But when they tried to carry
the eagle he was so heavy that they could not lift him. Then Solomon
gave them an ointment, and told them to rub the bird with it and stroke
him thus, and thus, and that he would grow young again. And they did so,
and the feathers grew on his back and wings, and he flew to Solomon, and
alighted before the throne. And Solomon asked him, “where is the palace
that the Sitt Belkis requires, between Damascus and Irak, in the desert
where the air is good?” and the eagle answered, “It is Tudmur, the city
which lies beneath the sand.” And he showed them the place. And Solomon
ordered the jinns to remove the sand, and when they had done so, there
lay Tudmur with its beautiful ruins and columns.
Still there was no water. For the water was locked up in a cave in the
hills by a serpent twenty thousand double arms’ length long, which
blocked the mouth of the cave. And Solomon called on the serpent to come
out. But the serpent answered that she was afraid. And Solomon promised
that he would not kill her. But as soon as she was half way out of the
cave (and they knew it by a black mark on her body which marked half her
length), Solomon set his seal upon her and she died. And the jinns
dragged her wholly out and the water ran. Still it was poisonous with
the venom of the serpent, and the people could not drink. Then Solomon
took sulphur (kubrit) and threw it into the cave, and the water became
sweet. And the sulphur is found there to this day.
Mohammed says also that ghosts (afrit) are very common among the ruins at
Tudmur—also (more curious still) that there is a man at Tudmur more than
a hundred years old, and that when he reached his hundredth year he cut a
complete new set of teeth, and is now able to eat like a young man. {67}
So he beguiled the evening.
_February_ 14.—We have passed more birkehs in better repair than the
first, and being now in the neighbourhood of water, find a good many
Bedouins on the road. Jedur (the Shammar with the mother, with whom we
are still travelling, and whom we like particularly) knows everybody, and
it is well that he is with us, as some of these Bedouins are rough
looking fellows with hang-dog countenances (especially the Dafir and the
Sellem), which we don’t quite like. To-day, as Wilfrid and I were riding
apart from our caravan, a number of men ran towards us without any salaam
aleykum and began calling to us to stop. But we did not let them get
within arm’s length, and bade them ask their questions from a distance.
We shall have to keep watch to-night. The road is now regularly marked
out with a double wall, which we are told was built by Zobeydeh to hang
an awning from, so that the pilgrims might travel in the shade. But this
must be nonsense. It is more likely that it is merely the effect of the
road having been cleared of the big stones which here cover the plain.
* * * * *
Since writing this a curious thing has happened. We encamped early
inside a ruined birkeh and had just got all in order for the night, when
we perceived six men on dromedaries riding down from the northeast,
straight towards us. There was much speculation of course amongst us, as
to who they might be, honest men or robbers, Shammar or Dafir. They
evidently were not a mere party of camels for the Haj, as each delúl was
mounted by a man with a lance, and they came on at a trot. They rode
straight to where we were, made their camels kneel down, took off khurjs
and shedads and then arranged their bivouac for the night. Then they
came up to our tents and accosted Mohammed and the servants, who of
course invited them to sit down and drink coffee. Mohammed presently
came to us and whispered that he felt convinced they were Dafir, but that
we should presently know for certain. They sat down and began talking on
general subjects, as the custom is till coffee has been served, but
afterwards Mohammed asked them whence they had come and whither they were
going. They answered that they were Ketherin, sent by their Sheykh to
Haïl on business, and explained further that their object was to find a
certain relative of their Sheykh’s whom he had heard of as being a guest
at Ibn Rashid’s and to invite him to their tents. Perhaps we might have
heard of him, his name was Mohammed ibn Arûk. And their Sheykh’s name?
Muttlak ibn Arûk! Here is a _coup de théâtre_! Mohammed’s long-lost
relation, the third brother of the three who left Aared in the eighteenth
century and parted company at Jôf, has been discovered in his descendant,
whose servants are at this moment in our camp. Imagine the joy of
Mohammed and the triumph of so appropriate an occasion for reciting once
more the kasid Ibn Arûk! The rhymes of that well-known legend, recited
by Mohammed and responded to by the new comers in chorus, were indeed the
first intimation we had of what had happened. Then the Ketherin
ambassadors were brought to our tent and their story told. Now all ideas
of Bussorah and Meshhed Ali and the Haj are abandoned, and, for the
moment, there is no other plan for any of us but an immediate visit to
these new relations. One of the Ketherin has already started off
homewards to announce the joyful event, and the rest will turn back with
us to-morrow. Muttlak’s tents are not more than a day’s journey from
where we now are, and we shall see these long-lost cousins to-morrow
before the sun goes down. “Yallah,” exclaimed Mohammed, beaming with joy
and pride.
_February_ 15.—We made a late start, for Mohammed has lost his head again
and is playing the fine gentleman, as he did at Haïl, afraid or ashamed
to be seen by his new acquaintances doing any sort of work. Instead of
helping to pack or load the camels, he would do nothing but sit on the
ground playing with his beads, and calling to Awwad to saddle his
delúl,—airs and graces which, I am glad to see, are thrown away on the
Ketherin, who, as Bedouins, care little for the vanities of life. Even
when started, we did not get far, for it began to thunder and lighten,
and presently to rain heavily, so that Wilfrid ordered a halt at
half-past ten. We have now come to the great birkehs which are full of
water. They stand in a valley called the Wady Roseh, from a plant of
that name which grows in it, and is much prized as pasture for both
camels and horses. There are two tanks near us, one round, the other
square, and both of the same fashion as the first we saw. We have been
examining the construction and find that the walls were originally built
hollow, of stone, and filled up with concrete. This is now as hard as
granite, and has a fine polish on the surface. The water is beautifully
clear and good. The largest of the tanks is sixty-four yards by
thirty-seven, and perhaps twelve feet deep. There is a ruined khan of
the same date close by, and Wilfrid has discovered an immense well ten
feet wide at the mouth and very deep. All these were constructed by
Zobeydeh, the wife of the Caliph Haroun er-Rashid, who nearly died of
thirst on her way back from Mecca and so had the wells and tanks dug.
Wilfrid believes that no European has visited them before, though they
are marked vaguely on Chesney’s map. A wild day has ended with a fine
sunset. Dinner, not of stalled ox, nor of herbs, but of boiled locusts
and rice, with such bread as we can manage to make of flour well mixed
with sand.
Mohammed, who has been in the agonies of poetic composition for a week
past, has at last delivered himself of the following kasíd or ballad,
which I believe is intended as a pendant to the original Ibn Arûk kasíd,
with which he sees we are bored.
KASÍD IBN ARÛK EL JEDÍDE.
Nahárrma min esh Sham, el belád el bayíde,
Némshi ma el wudiân wa el Beg khaláwa.
Wa tobéyt aéla Jôf, dar jedíde.
Yaáz ma tílfi ubrobok khaláwi.
Nahárret ’Abu Túrki, aálumi bayíde,
Dábakha lil khottár héyle semáne.
Ya marhába bil Beg wa es Sitt Khatún.
Talóbbt bíntu gal jaátka atíye.
Wa siághahu min el Beg khámsin mía.
Khatún, ya bint el akrám wa el juwádi.
Khatún, ya bint el Amáva wa el kebár.
Ya Robb, selémli akhúi el Beg wa es Sitt Khatún.
Ya Robb, wasálhom diyar essalámi,
Wa dar el Ajjem wa belad hade Hanûd,
Wa yetóbb aál bahûr sébba khaláwi,
Wa yetóbb aála Lóndra wa yekéllem efnún,
Wa yehágg el sahíbe aála ma sar jári.
NEW BALLAD OF IBN ARÛK.
I went out from Damascus, the far-off country.
I marched through the lone valley, with the Beg alone.
I lighted down at Jôf, at a new built dwelling.
Dear are the souls it shelters. “Guests,” he said, “sit down.”
“See, Abu Turki, see,” I called, “thy kinsmen.”
“Bring first for these,” he cried, “a fatted lamb.
“Welcome, O Beg, welcome O Lady Khatún,
Welcome, O distant kinsman, to your home.”
I asked him for his daughter. “Take her dowerless.”
“Her dower be these, five thousand,” said the Beg.
Lady, O daughter of the great the generous!
Lady, O daughter of a princely line!
O Lord, keep safe my brother and the Khatúm.
Grant them to reach the dwellings of repose.
Guide them through Persia and far Hind and lead them
By all the seven seas in safety home.
Let them once more behold their friends and London.
Let them relate the things that they have done.