Chapter VIII.

Cruise from El-'Akabah to El-Muwaylah--the Shipwreck

Escaped–Résumé of the Northern Journey.

I resolved upon hastening back with all speed to El-Muwaylah,

finishing, by the way, our work of quartz-prospecting on the

'Akabah Gulf. Thus far it had been a success; we heard of "Marú"

in all directions. But all had not gone equally well. We had

already on two occasions been prevented by circumstances from

visiting the mysterious Hismá, and we now determined to devote

all our energies to its exploration.

Two heavy showers having fallen during the dark hours, on

February 8th Aurora looked as if she had passed a very bad night

indeed. The mist-rack trailed along the rock slopes, and rested

upon the Wady-sands; the mountains veiled their heads in clouds,

and--

"Above them lightnings to and fro ran coursing evermore,

Till, like a red, bewildered map, the skies were

scribbled o'er."

Meanwhile, in the north-west and south-west we saw--rare thing in

Arabia!--Iris holding two perfect bows at the same time, not to

speak of "wind dogs." Zephyrus, the wester, here a noted bad

character, rose from his rocky couch strong and rough, beating

down the mercury to 56 degrees F.: after an hour he made way for

Eurus; and the latter was presently greeted by Boreas in one of

his most boisterous and blustering moods.

We steamed off, with only a single stoppage for half an hour to

cool the engine-bearings, at 7.30 a.m.; and, after one mile we

passed, on the Arabian side, a ruin called Kasr el-Bint--"the

Girl's Palace." Beyond it lies the Kasr el-Bedawi, alias

El-Burayj ("of the Little Tower or Bastion"), the traditional

holding-pier of the great chain. When Wellsted (ii. 146) says,

"Here (i.e. at the Kasr el-Bedawi), I am told, there is a chain

extending from the shore to a pier built in the sea"--he

evidently misunderstood the Arabs. The eastern coast of

El-'Akabah begins with an abrupt mountain-wall, like that which

subtends the whole of the Sinai shore, till it trends south of

the Mí'nat el-Dahab. After three miles the heights fall into a

stony, sandy plain, which rises regularly as a "rake," or

stage-slope, to the Shará' (Seir) range, which closes the

horizon. After two hours and forty five minutes we passed into

the fine, open, treacherous Bay of "Hagul" (El-Hakl), distant

thirteen knots from El-'Akabah Fort, to which it is the nearest

caravan-station. On the north-east, and stretching eastward, are

the high "horse," or dorsum, and the big buttresses of the long,

broad Wady, which comes winding from the south-east. They appear

to be a body of sand; but, as usual on this coast, the

superficial sheet, the skin, hardly covers the syenite and

porphyritic trap that form the charpente. Between west and south,

a long spit, high inland, and falling low till where its

sandstone blufflet meets the sea, proves to be the base of a

large and formidable reef, which extends in verdigris patches

over the blue waters of the bay. It is not mentioned by Wellsted

(ii. 149), who describes "Ha'gool on the Arabian shore," as "a

small boat-harbour much exposed to the northerly winds." The

embouchure of the Wady nourishes four distinct clumps of

date-trees, well walled round; a few charred and burnt, the most

of them green and luxuriant. These lines are broken by the

channels which drain the surface water; and between the two

western sections appear the ragged frond-huts. Not a soul was

seen on shore.

The wind blew great guns outside the bay, and the inside proved

anything but calm. As the water was fifty-eight fathoms deep near

the coast, our captain found no moorings for his ship, except to

the dangerous reef; and we kept drifting about in a way which

would have distracted sensitive nerves. I had been told of ruins

and tumuli at El-Hakl, which denote, according to most

authorities, the Mesogeian town <Greek>(Ancale): Ptolemy

(vi. 7, 27) places this oppidum Mediterraneum between Mákna or

Maína (Madyan), and Madiáma (Magháir Shu'ayb), the old capital.

Unwilling, however, to risk the safety of the gunboat, where

nothing was to be expected beyond what we had seen at El-'Akabah,

I resolved, after waiting half an hour, not to land. The Sambúk

received a cargo of quarrymen and sacks, in order to ship at

Makná the "argentiferous galena" and other rocks left by

Lieutenant Yusuf and M. Philipin upon the shore; and, that done,

she was directed to rejoin us at Tírán Island. As long as the

norther coursed high, she beat us hollow; in the afternoon,

however, when the gale, as usual, abated, she fell off, perhaps

purposely, not wishing to pass a night in the open. By sunset her

white sail had clean disappeared, having slipped into some snug

cove.

The Arabian shore is here of simpler construction than that of

Sinai; consequently the chart has had a better chance. The

Mukhbir resumed her way southwards in glorious weather, a fresh

breath blowing from the north; and fleecy clouds variegating the

sky, which was almost as blue as the waves After six miles and a

half from El-Hakl and nearly twenty from El-Akabah, she ran to

the west of El-Humayzah Island, the "Omasír" of Wellsted (ii.

149), between which and the mainland is a well sheltered berth.

It is a great contrast with the "Hill of the Fort," the

Pharaohnic rock, this lump some eighty feet high, built of

Secondary gypsum and yellow serpentine like the coast behind it.

Gleaming deadly white, pale as a corpse in the gorgeous sunshine,

and utterly bare, except for a single shrub, it is based upon a

broad, dark-coloured barrier-reef. Local tradition here places

the Kasr el-Bedawíyyah, "Palace of the Bedawi Woman (or Girl),"

but we saw neither sign of building nor trace of population in

the second island which the Gulf el-'Akabah owns.

We then passed sundry uninteresting features, and night fell upon

us off Jebel Tayyib Ism, where familiar scenes began to present

themselves. The captain had already reduced speed from four and a

half to three knots, his object being to reach the Bugház or

"Gulf-mouth" after dawn. But as midnight drew near it became

necessary to ride out the furious gale with the gunboat's head

turned northwards. M. Lacaze, a stout-hearted little man, worked

half the night at the engine, assisting Mr. Duguid. About four

a.m. (February 8th) a lull in the storm allowed her to resume her

southerly course; but two hours afterwards, an attempt to make

the Makná shore, placing her broadside on to the wind, created

much confusion in the crockery and commotion among the men.

Always a lively craft, she now showed a Vokes-like agility; for,

as is ever the case, she had no ballast, and who would take the

trouble to ship a few tons of sand? At such moments the engine

was our sole stand-by: had it played one of its usual tricks, the

Mukhbir, humanly speaking, was lost; that is, she would have been

swamped and water-logged. As for setting sail, it was not till

our narrow escape that I could get the canvas out of stowage in

the hold.

As the morning wore on the Gulf became even rougher, with its

deep and hollow waves; they seemed to come from below, as if bent

upon hoisting us in the air. The surface-water shivered; and the

upper spray was swept off by the north wind, which waxed colder

and more biting as we steered sunwards. The Sinaitic side now

showed its long slopes; and at 9.45 a.m. we passed the palms of

the Nebíkí anchorage, some six miles from the "Gate." On the

shore of Midian, south of the dark Fahísát Mountains, four

several buttresses of gypsum, decreasing in size as they followed

one another eastwards, trended diagonally away from the sea. This

part of the Arabian coast ends in a thin point: the maps call it

"Ras Fartak;" and the pilots "Shaykh Hamí,"[EN#138] from a holy

man's tomb to which pious visitation is made. The other

land-tongue, adjoining to the south, is known as the Umm Ruús, or

"Mother of Heads." I cannot find out whence Ruppell borrowed his

"Omel Hassanie" (Umm el-Hassání?).

As we approached the ugly gape of the formidable Gulf, the waves

increased in size, and coursed to all directions, as if distorted

by the sunken reefs. The eastern jamb is formed by Tírán Island;

the western by the sandy Ras Nasráni, whose glaring tawny slope

is dotted with dark basaltic cones, detached and disposed like

great ninepins. Beyond this cape the Sinaitic coast, as far as

Ras Mohammed, the apex of the triangle, is fretted with little

indentations; hence its name, El-Shurúm--"the Creeks." Near one

of these baylets, Wellsted chanced upon "volcanic rocks which are

not found in any other part of the peninsula:" this sporadic

outbreak gives credibility to the little "Harrah" reported to be

found upon the bank of the Midianitish "Wady Sukk." A hideous,

horrid reef, dirty brown and muddy green, with white horses madly

charging the black diabolitos, whose ugly heads form chevaux de

frise, a stony tongue based upon Tírán Island, and apparently

connected from the eastern coast behind, extends its tip to

mid-channel. The clear way of the dreaded Bugház is easily found

in the daytime: at night it would be almost impossible; and when

Midian shall be "rehabilitated," this reef will require a Pharos.

Adieu, small spitfire of a Gulf! The change from the inside to

the outside of the Birkat el-Akabah was magical. We at once

glided into summer seas, a mosaic of turquoise and amethyst,

fanned by the softest of breezes, the thermometer showing on deck

63 deg F. Perhaps the natural joy at our lucky escape from

"making a hole in the water" caused the beauties of the weather

and the glories of the scenery to appear doubly charming. Our

captain might have saved fifteen miles by taking the short cut

north of Tírán Island, under whose shelter we required a day for

boiler-tinkering. His pilot, however, would not risk it, and we

were compelled, nothing loth and little knowing what we did, to

round for a second time the western and southern shores.

The "Hill of Birds," which some have identified with the

classical Island of Isis,[EN#139] shows a triune profile, what

the Brazilians call a Moela or "gizzard." Of its three peaks the

lowest is the eastern; and the central is the highest, reaching

seven hundred, not a thousand, feet. Viewed from within the Gulf,

it is a slope of sand which has been blown in sheets up the

backing hills. The ground plan, as seen from a balloon, would

represent a round head to the north, a thin neck, and a body

rudely triangular, the whole measuring a maximum of five miles in

length: the sandy northern circlet, connected by the narrowest of

isthmuses, sweeping eastward, forms the noted port. The material

is the normal Secondary formation, sulphates and carbonates of

lime supporting modern corallines and conglomerates of shell.

Horizontal lines of harder stone are disposed in huge steps or

roads that number three to six on the flank of the western peak:

the manganese-coloured strata which appeared at Magháir Shu'ayb,

and in the rent bowels of the Rughámat Makná, are conspicuous

from the south. The whole has been upheaved by syenite, which,

again, has been cut by dykes of plutonic stone, trap and

porphyry.

At two p.m. we anchored in a roadstead to the south-east of the

island, open to every wind except the norther. I had sent

Lieutenant Amir and sundry quarrymen ashore, to inspect what

looked like a vein of sulphur. They delayed two hours, instead of

a few minutes; the boiler was grumbling for rest, and, not

wishing to leave them adrift in an open boat, I imprudently

consented to await them in a roadstead where the coast was

dangerous, instead of proceeding, as had been intended, to the

fine land-locked port, nature-hollowed in the eastern side of the

island. The old captain pitifully represented to me that his crew

could not row; and this I found to be generally the case: ten

miles with the oar would be considered a terrible corvée by the

Egyptian man-o'-war's man.

After blowing off steam, we at once went a-fishing. The only

remarkable result was the discovery that this corner of the Red

Sea is a breeding-ground for sharks: we had not seen one in the

Gulf of El-'Akabah, where last April they swarmed. Here, however,

the school contained all sizes and every age, and they regarded

us curiously with their cat's eyes, large, dark, and

yellow-striped down the middle. A small specimen, that had just

cut its teeth, was handed over to the cook, despite his loudly

expressed disgust. The meat was somewhat mealy and shortfibred;

but we pronounced in committee the seadog to be thoroughly

eatable when corrected by pepper, garlic, and Worcester sauce.

The corallines near the shore were finely developed: each bunch,

like a tropical tree, formed a small zoological museum; and they

supplied a variety of animalculae, including a tiny shrimp. The

evening saw a well-defined halo encircling the moon at a

considerable distance; and Mr. Duguid quoted the Scotch saw--

"A far-awa' bruch's a near-awa' blast."

The blast was nearer than we expected; and, during the rest of

the journey, the "bruch" rarely if ever deceived us. Yet the

night was not much disturbed by the furious northerly gusts,

showing that the storm which we had escaped was raging in the

still-vexed 'Akabah.

Next morning we landed to the south-west of Tírán's easternmost

peak, with a view of prospecting and adding to our collections.

On the shore, about three hundred feet from the sea, is a bank of

dead shells which are not found on the northern or sandy end of

the island: near the water most of them are tenanted by paguri

("hermits"). We caught a number of crabs and small fish, and we

carried off a single rock-oyster: as yet we had not found out

that the Ustrída--the vulgar form of the Hellenic and classical

"Istiridiyá"--abounds in these seas. After thirty minutes' walk

up the southern plane of the prism, composed of gypseous and

coralline rocks, veins of white petrosilex resembling broken

columels, streaks of magnetic black sand, and scatters of grit

and harder stones, we reached the summit of the little ridge. It

afforded a fine bird's-eye view of the splendid middle port; of

the false harbour; of the real shoal to its south-east, and of

the basin which seems to form Sináfir Island.

We now bent to the south-west. Here the surface is much cut and

broken by sandy Wadys, dotted with a few straggling plants: to

our right was a Goz or inclined arenaceous bank, where the south

wind had sifted the sand from the gravel, disposing the former in

the hollows, and the latter on the crest of the ripples.

Presently we reached a strange formation which, seen from the

east, appears a huge vein, red and rusty, beginning close to the

sea, and crossing the body of the island from south to north,

while a black cone is so disposed that its southern front

simulates a crater. A narrow gorge opens upon a semicircular

hollow lined with ochraceous or ferruginous matter; in fact, part

of the filon, which sends off fibrils in all directions. The

confusion of formations was startling. The floor was here of

white petrosilex, there of grey granite, variegated with squares

and lozenges, drops and pineapples, red, green, neutral tinted,

and disposed by oxides of iron and copper in natural designs that

looked artificial. Scattered over the bed of the upper ravine

beyond the hollow, were carbonates of lime, ruddy brown and

chocolate-hued, here a pudding-stone, there porous like basalt:

the calcareous sulphates were both amorphous and crystalline, the

latter affected by contact with plutonic matter. The walls of the

gash showed a medley of clay breccias, disposed in every

imaginable way; and divided by horizontal veins of heat-altered

quartz. A few paces further led to the head of the ravine, where

a tumble of huge rocks, choking the bed, showed that the

rain-torrents must at times be violent.

Meanwhile, Mr. Clarke and Lieutenant Amir had walked to the large

central harbour, hoping there to hit upon sweet water and some

stray Hutaym fishermen, who would show us what we wanted. They

did not find even the vestige of a hut. The two exploring parties

saw only three birds in the "Isle of Birds," and not one of the

venomous snakes mentioned at "Tehran" by Wellsted (II. ix.), and

described as "measuring about thirty inches, of a slender form,

with black and white spots." We also utterly failed to discover

the sulphur which was once abundant and the naphtha which,

according to the same authority, was produced here in

considerable quantities, and was used "by the Arab mariners to

pay their boats."

The evening was exceptionally fine and calm; and we expected on

the morrow (February 11th) a quiet return to El-Muwaylah. Yet a

manner of presentiment induced me to summon the engineer and his

native assistants, and to promise the latter a liberal

"bakhshísh," if by hard work at the boiler all night, and by

rigging up the ship's pump instead of a donkey-engine, they could

steam off at dawn.

Unexpectedly, about four a.m., a violent sandy and misty wester

began to blow; and all fancied that we had set sail to the south.

Quite the contrary! The engine was still under repair. The

Mukhbir was being tossed and rolled by the inshore set, and the

sequel is quickest told by an extract from my "Penny":--

"Written in sight of Death. Wind roaring furiously for victims:

waves worse. No chain can stand these sledge-hammer shocks. Chain

parts,[EN#140] and best sheet-anchor with it. Bower and kedge

anchors thrown out and drag. Fast stranding broadside on: sharp

coralline reef to leeward, distant 150 yards. Sharks! Packed up

necessaries. Sambúk has bolted, and quite right too! Engine

starts some ten minutes before the bump. Engineer admirably cool;

never left his post for a moment, even to look at the sea. Giorgi

(cook) skinning a sheep: he has been wrecked four times, and

don't care. Deck-pump acting poorly. Off in very nick of time,

9.15 a.m. General joy, damped by broadside turned to huge

billows. Lashed down boxes of specimens on deck, and wore round

safely. Made for Sináfir, followed by waves threatening to poop

us. Howling wind tears mist to shreds. Second danger worse than

first. Run into green water: fangs of naked rock on both sides

within biscuit-throw; stumps show when the waves yawn. Nice

position for a band-box of old iron! With much difficulty slipped

into blue water. Rounded south end of spit, and turned north into

glorious Sináfir Bay. Safe anchorage in eight fathoms. Anchor

down at 10:15 a.m., after one hour of cold sweat. Distance seven

miles on chart, nine by course: Mukhbir never went so fast; blown

like chaff before wind. Faces cleared up. All-round shaking of

hands; ‘El-Hamdu li'lláhi,' followed by a drink. Some wept for

joy."

The engine, or rather the engineer, had saved us: as the saying

is, it was touch and go--the nearest thing I ever did see. Had

the rotten old boiler struck work for five minutes when we were

clearing out of Tírán, or steaming along Sináfir shore, nothing

could have kept the ship afloat. Those who behaved best, a

fireman, a boy who crept into the combustion-chamber to clear it,

and helmsman who, having been at Liverpool, spoke a little

English, were duly "bakhshísh'd." The same reward was given by

mistake to the boilermaker, Mohammed Sa'íd Haddád, who had

malingered, instead of working, through the night. At Suez he had

the impudence to ask me for a Shahádah ("testimony") to his good

character. On the whole the conduct of the crew was worthy of all

praise.

In a decently equipped English steamer we should have laughed at

this storm, and whistled for more wind; but the condition of the

Mukhbir quite changed the case. The masts might have rolled out,

or she might have sprung a leak at any moment. And supposing that

we had escaped the crash upon the reef, the huge waves, and the

schools of sharks, our situation would have been anything but

pleasant. The Island of Tírán, as has been shown, is a grisly

scrap of desert: it has no sweet water; and its three birds would

not long have satisfied thirty hungry men. It is far from the

mainland; the storm, which lasted through two days, was too

violent for raft or boat to live, and at so early a season native

craft are never seen on these seas. Briefly, a week might have

elapsed before our friends at El-Muwaylah, who were startled by

the wildness of the wind, could have learned our plight, or could

have taken measures to relieve the castaways.

Sináfir Island, which we have to thank for giving us hospitality

on two occasions, consists mainly of a bay. Viewed by the norma

verticalis, it is shaped like an ugly duckling, with an oval

(Wellsted says a circular) body of high ground disposed

north-east to south-west; and with head and neck drooping

westward so as to form a mighty pier or breakwater. The watery

plain within is out of all proportion to the amount of terra

firma. The body-profile shows straight-backed heaps of gypsum,

some two hundred feet high, which become quoin-shaped about the

middle of the isle: these hillocks are connected by low strips of

sand growing the usual vegetation, especially the pink Statice

pruinosa.

Presently our Sambúk, which had also lost chain and anchor before

she could run out of the storm, appeared to the north-west of the

bay; and a pilgrim-craft, bound for Suez, was our companion in

good fortune. A party landed to examine Sináfir, which still

shows signs of a junction with Tírán. In days when the Secondary

formation was an unbroken street, the whole segment of a circle,

extending from Sharm Yáhárr to northern Sinai, must have been dry

land; these reefs and islands are now the only remnants. The

islet itself seems lately to have been two: the neck and head are

one, and the body is another; an evident sea-cliff marks the

junction, and what appears like a Wady below it, is the upraised

sea-bed of coralline. To the north-west, and outside this strip,

lies the little port defended by a network of reefs, in which our

Sambúk had first taken refuge. The bay-shore bears traces of more

than one wreck; and in the graveyard used by the native sailor,

an open awning of flotsam and jetsam looks from afar like a

tumble-down log-hut. The number of reefs and shoals shown by

stripes of vivid green water promised excellent fishing, and

failed to keep its promise.

At length, after a third wasted day, we managed, despite a new

hole in the old boiler, to steam out of hospitable Sináfir at

6:30 a.m. on the auspicious Wednesday, February 13. The

appearance of the Mukhbir must have been originale enough: her

canvas had been fished out of the hold, but in the place of a

mainsail she had hoisted a topsail. We passed as close as

possible to the islet-line of Secondary formation, beginning with

Shu'shu', the wedge bluff-faced to south: the Palinurus anchored

here in a small bight on the north-east side, between two reefs,

and narrowly escaped being wrecked by a northerly gale. At 10:45

a.m. we were alongside of Baráhkán, a double feature, lumpy and

cliffy, connected by a low sandy isthmus: the eastern flank gives

good shelter to native crafts. Lastly came Yubá', the compound

quoin, the loftiest of the group, upwards of 350 feet high, with

its low-lying neighbour Wálih. These islets have classical names,

as I have before mentioned,[EN#141] and appear once to have been

inhabited: even at Yubú', the least likely of all, we heard from

several authorities of a deep rock-cut well, covered with a stone

which the Arabs could not raise.

And now we were able to cast an intelligent glance in review of

the scenes made familiar by our first or northern march. The

surpassing purity of the transparent atmosphere, especially at

this season, causes the land to look as near at twenty as at ten

miles; and thus both distances, showing the horizon with the

utmost distinctness, appear equally close to the ship. Beginning

towards El-‘Akabah, the Jebel el-Zánah behind Magháir Shu'ayb,

and its mighty neighbour, the Jebel el-Lauz, form the horizon of

mountains which are not the least amongst the giants. Southwards

appear the Jibál el-Tihámah, the noble forms of the seaboard, the

parallel chains noting the eastern boundary of Madyan (Proper);

while behind them the Jibál el-Shafah, reduced to blue heads and

fragments of purple wall, are evidently disposed on a far more

distant plane.

As regards the Jibál el-Tihámah, I have registered ad nauseam the

names of the eight several blocks into which, between El-Zahd

north and El-Shárr south, the curtain, rising from a sea-horizon,

seems to divide itself. Every one consulted gave me a new or a

different term; and apparently seamen and landsmen have their

separate nomenclature. Thus, the pilots call the Fás, Harb and

Dibbagh blocks, Jibál el-Musaybah, Tiryam, and Dámah, after the

Wadys and main valleys that drain them. The Bedawin, again, will

name the whole block after the part most interesting to them:

thus the tower-like formation characterizing Jebel Dibbagh was

often called "Jebel el-Jimm," and even this, as will afterwards

appear, was not quite exact.[EN#142]

We fired a gun off El-Muwaylah, where our camp, ranged in long

line, looked clean and natty. At five p.m. we were once more at

home in our old quarters, the Sharm Yáhárr: the day's work had

numbered fifty direct geographical miles between Sina'fir and

El-Muwaylah, with five more to our dock.

Résumé

Our journey through Madyan Proper (North Midian) had lasted

fifty-four days (December 19, 1877, to February 13, 1878). During

nearly two months the Expedition had covered only 105 to 107

miles of ground: this, however, does not include the various

by-trips made by the members, which would more than double the

total; nor the cruise of two hundred miles round the Gulf of

‘Akabah, ending at El-Muwaylah. The total of camels employed

varied from 106 to 61, and their hire, including "bakhshísh" and

all minor charges, amounted, according to Mr. Clarke, to £316

14s. 3d.

This section of North Midian may be described as essentially a

mining country, which, strange to say of a province so near

Egypt, has been little worked by the Ancients. The first

Khedivial Expedition brought back specimens of free gold found in

basalt, apparently eruptive, and in corundophyllite, which the

engineer called greenstone porphyry: silver appeared in the red

sands, in the chloritic quartz, and in the titaniferous iron of

the Jebel el-Abayz; the value being 265 to 300 francs per ton,

with traces in the scoriæ. The second Expedition failed to find

gold, but brought back argentiferous galena in copper-stained

quartz, and possibly in the ochraceous red veins seaming the

Secondary gypsum; with silicates and carbonates of copper: select

specimens of the latter yielding the enormous proportion of forty

per cent. In this northern region the great focus of metallic

deposit appears to lie between north lat. 28° 40' and 27° 50';

that is, from the Jebel Tayyib Ism, north of Makná, to the

southern basin which contains the Jebel el-Abyaz or "White

Mountain." Its characteristics are the argentiferous and

cupriferous ores, whereas in South Midian gold and silver were

worked; and the parallelogram whose limits are assigned above,

might be converted into a Northern Grant. Concerning the immense

abundance of gypsum, and the sulphur which is suspected to be

diffused throughout the Secondary formation, ample details have

been given in the preceding pages.

The principal ruins of ancient settlements, and the ateliers, all

of them showing vestiges of metal-working, numbered eight: these

are, beginning from the south, Tiryam, Sharmá, ‘Aynúnah, the

Jebel el-Abyaz, Magháir Shu'ayb, Makná', Tayyib Ism, and

El-‘Akabah. Magháir Shu'ayb, the Madiáma of Ptolemy, is evidently

the ancient capital of the district. It was the only place which

supplied Midianitish (Nabathæan) coins. Moreover, it yielded

graffiti from the catacombs; fragments of bronze which it will be

interesting to compare by assay with the metal of the European

prehistoric age; and, finally, stone implements, worked as well

as rude.

I will end with a few words concerning the future industry of

North Midian.

For the success of these mines the greatest economy will be

necessary. The poorest ore can be treated on the spot by crushing

and washing, where no expenditure of fuel is required. The richer

stone, that wants roasting and smelting, would be shipped, when

worth the while, from North Midian to Suez: there coal is

abundant, and the deserted premises of Dussaud-Bey, belonging to

the Egyptian Government, would form an excellent site for a great

usine centrale. Finally, the richest specimens--especially those

containing, as many do, a medley of metals--would be treated with

the least expenditure, and the greatest advantage, at Swansea or

in other parts of England, where there are large establishments

which make such work their specialty.

The following analyses of the specimens brought home by the first

Khedivial Expedition, were made at the Citadel, Cairo, by the

well-known chemist, Gastinel-Bey, in conjunction with M. George

Marie, the engineer attached to the Expedition:--

Analyses (Mm. Gastinel-bey and George Marie of Cairo) of Rocks

Brought Home by the First Khedivial Expedition.

(All by Voie Sèche.)

Gold (assay on 100 grammes)--

1. In basalt (lava?).

2. In serpentine.

(None in white quartz.)

Silver--

1. In Filon Husayn, 1/1000 = 265 to 300 francs per ton (very

good).

2. In red sands, 1/10,000 (= 20 francs per ton).

3. In scoriæ, traces.

(None in white quartz or in the black sands.)

Copper--

1. In ‘Aynúnah quartz, 4 1/2 per 100.

2. In Filon Husayn, 2 1/2 to 3.40 per cent.

Filon Husayn = Titaniferous iron, 86.50

Silica, 10.10

Copper, 3.40.

3. In chloritic slate, 1.40 per cent.

(Chloritic slate of Makná' =

Silica, 90.50

Carbonate of lime, 5.60

Oxide of iron, 2.30

Copper, 1.40.)

Sulphur (Jebel el-Kibri't of El-Muwaylah)--

4 per cent. above. 9 ditto below.

Lead everywhere.

Calamine (zinc) very rich.

Part II.

The March Through Central and Eastern Midian.

Chapter IX.

Work in and Around El-Muwaylah.

We arrived at El-Muwaylah too late to meet the Hajj-caravan,

which, home returning, had passed hurriedly through the station

on February 9th. This institution has sadly fallen off from its

high estate of a quarter of a century ago. Then commanded by an

Amir el-Hajj--"Lord of the Pilgrimage"--in the shape of two

Pashas (generals), it is now under the direction of a single Bey

(colonel). The "True Believers," once numbering thousands, were

reduced in 1877-78 to some eight hundred souls, of whom only

eighty appeared at El-Muwaylah; and the peculiar modification of

modern days is that the Mahmal is escorted only by paupers. Yet

the actual number of the Hájis who stand upon Jebel ‘Arafát,

instead of diminishing, has greatly increased. The majority

prefer voyaging to travelling; the rich hire state-cabins on

board well-appointed "Infidel" steamers, and the poor content

themselves with "Faithful" Sambúks. Indeed, it would seem that

all the present measures, quarantines of sixty days (!) and

detention at wretched Tor, comfortless enough to make the

healthiest lose health, are intended to discourage and deter

"palmers" from proceeding by land. If this course be continued, a

very few years will see the venerable institution represented by

only the Mahmal and its guard. The late Sa'id Pasha of Egypt once

consigned the memorial litter per steam-frigate to Jeddah: the

innovation saved Ghafr ("blackmail") to the Bedawin; but it was

not approved of by the Moslem world.

The Hájis were so poor that they had nothing for barter or for

sale. Happily, however, there was a farrier amongst them, and

Lieutenant Yusuf took care that our mules were properly shod. M.

Philipin had been a maréchal ferrant, but a kick or two had left

him no stomach for the craft. Our two fellow-travellers, with the

whole camp, had set out from Makná on February 6th, and marched

up the great Wady el-Kharaj. Along the eastern flank of the Jebel

el-Fahísát, the "Iron Mountain," they found many outcrops of

quartz, a rock which appears sporadically all the way to the

northern soufrière. In two places it was green-stained, showing

copper, while in another hydrated oxide and chromate of iron

(hematite)[EN#143] abounded. After a stage of four hours and

twenty minutes they left the caravan, struck off to the west,

accompanied by Shaykh Furayj, and reached their destination.

Here, however, they met with accidents: the mules bolted,

followed by the Shaykh's dromedary, and they were obliged to

hurry off for fear of losing the caravan, now well ahead of them.

Thus, when I had ordered Lieutenant Yusuf to make a detailed plan

of the formation, he had spent exactly ten minutes on the spot,

and he appeared not a little proud of his work.

This young officer was not a pleasant companion. He had doubtless

received his orders, but he carried them out in a peculiarly

disagreeable way, taking notes of all our proceedings under our

eyes. Together with Lieutenant Amir, he began to make a

collection of geology: both, being utterly innocent of all

knowledge, imitated us in picking up specimens; mixed them

together without notes or labels; and, on return to Cairo, duly

presented them at the Citadel. This was all that was required.

The papers were "written to" and reported as follows: "Closer

examination has shown that the ‘turquoises' brought to Cairo are

merely malachite (!); and that the existence of any such quantity

of gold as would pay for the working is, to say the least of it,

very doubtful."[EN#144]

The whole camp, indeed, was seized with a mania for collecting:

old Háji Wali again gathered bits of quartz, which he once more

presented as gold-stone to his friends and acquaintances at

Zagázig; and Anton, the dragoman, triumphantly bore away

fragments bristling with mica-slate, whose glitter he fondly

conceived to be silver.

Lieutenant Yusuf was presently despatched with three soldiers,

three quarrymen, Jází, the Arab guide of a former visit, and

eight camels, to bring back specimens of the copper silicate to

the south of ‘Aynánah, and to make a regular survey of the

northern solfatara. He set out early on February 18th, and after

twenty-one hours of caravan-marching reached the Jebel el-Fara'.

Here the outcrop is bounded north by the Wady el-Fara', and south

by the Wadys el-Maríkhah and Umm Nírán, the latter forming the

general recipient of these Nullahs. The Jebel is about 120 feet

high, of oval form, stretching 1750 metres from north-north-west

to south-south-east. The rich silicate (not carbonate) of copper,

which disdains a streak and affects the file, is found, as usual

with this ore, only in one part of the valley to the south-west,

some thirty-five feet above the sole: it is a pocket, a

"circumscribed deposit," as opposed to a "true vein" or a

"vein-fissure." The adjoining rocks contain carbonates of iron

and copper, and the ore-mass is apparently carbonate of lime.

This second visit generally confirmed the report of Ahmed Kaptán,

except that there were no signs of working, as he had supposed.

The travellers passed the whole of February 20th at the diggings,

made a plan, and sent back two camel-loads (four sacks) of the

gangue, in charge of a soldier, to the Fort of El-Muwaylah.

On the next day the little party made for the Wady ‘Aynúnah, and,

striking to the left of the straight line, crossed the maritime

country, here a mass of Wadys, including our old friend the

‘Afál. This highway to the northern Hismá falls, I have said,

into the Mínat el-‘Ayánát, a portlet useful to Sambúks: its

sickle-shaped natural breakwater, curving from west to south,

resembles that of Sinaitic Marsá el-Ginái, and those which are so

common in Western Iceland. On February 22nd, a very devious path,

narrow and rocky, lasting for one hour, led them, about noon, to

the northern Jebel el-Kibrít. The distance from El-Muwaylah is

about sixty-six miles; and the country west of a line drawn from

‘Aynúnah to Makná was, before this march, utterly unknown to us,

consequently to all the civilized world.

Lieutenant Yusuf's two journals checking each other, his plan and

his specimens enable me to describe the northern deposit with

more or less accuracy. The Sulphur-hill is a long oval of four

hundred metres (east-west), by a maximum of one hundred and

eighty (north-south); but it extends branches in all directions:

the mineral was also found in a rounded piton, a knob on the Wady

Musayr, attached to the north-eastern side. The flattened dome is

from fifty to sixty feet high, and the piton one hundred and

forty. The metal underlying a dark crust, some twelve to fifteen

centimetres thick, appears in regular crystals and amorphous

fragments of pure brimstone pitting the chalky sulphate of lime:

blasting was not required; the soft material yielded readily to

the pick. This gypseous or Secondary formation was found to

extend, not only over the adjacent hills, but everywhere along

the road to Makná. The important point which now remains to be

determined is, I repeat, whether sulphur-veins can be found

diffused throughout these non-plutonic rocks.

Lieutenant Yusuf fixed his position by climbing the adjacent

hills, whence Sina'fir bore 190°, and Shu'shu' 150° (both

magnetic); while greater elevations to the west shut out the view

of lofty Ti'ra'n, and even of the Sinaitic range. The nearest

water in the Wady el-Nakhil to the north-east was reported to be

a two hours' march with loaded camels (= five miles) Several

little ports, quite unknown to the Hydrographic Chart, were

visited. These are, beginning from the north, the Mínat Hamdán,

lying between Makná and Dabbah; a refuge for Sambúks defended,

like that of old "Madyan," by rising ground to the north. About

three miles and a quarter further south is the Sharm Dabbah, the

"Sherm Dhaba, good anchorage" of the Chart: this mass of reefs

and shoals may have been one of the "excellent harbours"

mentioned by Procopius. It receives the Wady Sha'b el-Gánn

(Jánn), "the Watercourse of the Demons' (Ja'nn) Ravine," flowing

from a haunted hill of red stone, near which no Arab dares to

sleep. From that point the travellers struck nine miles and a

half to south-east of Ghubbat Suwayhil: this roadstead, used only

by native craft, lies eastward of the long point forming the

Arabian staple of the Gulf el-‘Akabah's gate, where the

coast-line of Midian bends at a right angle towards the rising

sun. Adjoining it to the east, and separated by a long thin spit,

is the Ghubbat el-Wagab (Wajb), the mouth of the watercourse

similarly named: it is also known to the Katírah or "smaller

vessel," and about a mile up its bed, which comes from the

north-east, there is a well. According to Jázi, the guide, this

Ghubbah ("gulf"), distant only four to five hours of slow

marching from the Sulphur-hill, will be the properest place for

shipping produce. In another eastern feature, the Wady Giyál

(Jiyál), distant some eleven miles and a half from ‘Aynúnah and

ending in a kind of sink, there is a fine growth of palms, about

a quarter of a mile long, and a supply of "wild" (brackish) water

in wells and rain-pools. These uninteresting details will become

valuable when the sulphur-mines of North Midian are ripe for

working.

From the Ghubbat el-Wagab, the path, easy travelling over flat

ground, strikes to the north-east; and, fourteen miles and a half

beyond, joins the ‘Aynúnah highway. On February 26th, at the end

of nine days' work, Lieutenant Yusuf returned to El-Muwaylah with

two sacks of sulphur-bearing chalk which justified his previous

report. As will appear, the Expedition was still travelling

through the interior: after a halt for rest at head-quarters, he

rejoined us on our northward route from Zibá, and I again found

useful occupation for his energies.

Upon our happy return "home," i.e. Sharm Yáhárr, preparations for

a march upon the Hismá were at once begun. My heart was firmly

fixed upon this project, hoping to find an "unworked California"

to the east of the Harrah volcanoes; but the Shaykhs and

camel-men, who did not like the prospect of a rough reception by

the Ma'ázah bandits, threw sundry small stumbling-blocks in our

path. It was evidently useless to notice them so far from the

spot; they would develop themselves only too well as we

approached the tribal frontier. While these obstacles were being

cleared away, we carefully examined the little dock that had so

often given us shelter in the hour of need; and I set a small

party to work at the central Jebel el-Kibri't, which had been

explored by the first Expedition.

Sharm Yáhárr is the usual distorted T, a long channel heading in

a shorter cross-piece: it is formed by the confluence of four

valleys, all composed of corallines and conglomerates of new

sandstone. Those to the north and the north-west show distinct

signs of upheaval; the two eastern features, known as the Wady

el-Hárr ("the Hot Watercourse"), of which Yáhárr appears to be a

corruption, bear marks of man's hand. The dock is divided into an

outer and inner "port" by a projecting northern point which is

not sufficiently marked in the Chart (enlarged plan). At this

place, where the tide rises a full metre, the crew of the Mukhbir

had built a jetty of rough boulders, by way of passe-temps and to

prevent wading. Native craft lie inside, opposite the ruins of a

stone house: the existence of a former population is shown by the

many graves on the upper plateau. In the northern Wady el-Hárr,

also, we picked up specimens of obsidian, oligistic iron, and

admirably treated modern (?) slags showing copper and iron;

evidently some Gypsy-like atelier must once have worked upon the

Wady Yáhárr. The obsidian also has apparently been subjected to

the artificial fire; and a splinter of it contains a paillette of

free copper.

What concerned us most, however, was the discovery of oysters,

which, adhering to the reefs projected under water from the rocky

northern cliff, formed a live conglomerate; and from the present

time forwards we found the succulent molluscs in almost every

bay. Those to the south, where the shallows overlie sand and mud,

are not so good. At this season the Ustrída is flat, fleshy, and

full sized; the shell has a purple border, and the hinge muscle

of the savage, far stronger than that of the civilized animal,

together with its exceeding irregularity of shape, giving no

purchase to the knife, makes oyster-opening a sore trouble. We

tried fire, but the thick-skinned things resisted it for a long

time; and, when they did gape, the liquor had disappeared,

thereby spoiling the flavour. The "beard" was neither black, like

that of the Irish, nor colourless, as in the English oyster. The

Bedawin, who ignore the delicacy, could not answer any questions

about the "spatting season"--probably it is earlier than ours,

which extends through June; whether also a close time is

required, as in England to August 4th, we could not guess. The

young probably find a natural "culch" in the many shells, cockle

and others, that strew the rock, sand, and clay.

Knowing that my gallant friend, Admiral McKillop (Pasha) of

Alexandria, takes great interest in "ostreoculture," I sent him

from Suez a barrel of the best Midianites The water had escaped

by the carelessness of the magazine-man: enough, however,

remained alive to be thrown into the harbour Eunostos, where they

will, I hope, become the parents of a fine large progeny of

"natives." Similarly we had laid in a store of forty-two

langoustes (crayfish) for presentation at Court, and to gladden

the hearts of Cairéne friends: our Greeks placed the tubs in the

sun and so close to the funnel, that, after about three hours,

all the fine collection perished ignobly.

We will now proceed to the central Jebel el-Kibri't; a

superficial examination of which by the first Expedition[EN#145]

proved that the upper rock yielded four, and the lower nine, per

cent. of tolerably pure brimstone. The shortest cut from the

dock-harbour lies up the southern Wady Ha'rr, with its strangely

weathered sandstone rocks, soft modern grits that look

worm-eaten. Amongst them is a ledge-like block with undermined

base projecting from the left bank: both the upper and the lower

parts are scattered over with Wasm, or Arab tribal marks. On our

return from El-Wijh we found this sandstone tongue broken in two:

the massive root remained in situ, but the terminal half had

fallen on the ground. This was probably the work of an earthquake

which we felt at Sharm Dumayghah on March 22nd.[EN#146] The track

then strikes the modern Hajj-road, which runs west of and close

to the Sulphur-hill; the line is a succession of

watercourses,[EN#147] and in Wady Khirgah we found blocks of the

hydrous silicate, corundophyllite which may be Serpentine: it is

composed of a multitude of elements, especially pyrites. After an

hour and a quarter's sharp walking, we hit the broad Wady

el-Kibrít, which rounds its Jebel to the south-east, and which

feeds the Wady el-Jibbah, itself a feeder of the Sharm Jibbah.

The latter, which gave us shelter in the corvette Sinnár (Captain

Ali Bey), is a long blue line of water bounding the western base

of the Sulphur-hill.

This central Tuwayyil el-Kibrít is an isolated knob, rising

abruptly from Wady-ground; measuring some 240 feet in height, and

about 880 metres in diameter, not including its tail of four

vertebræ which sets off from north-west to south-east. Viewed

from the north it is, as the Egyptian officers remarked, a

regular Haram ("pyramid"), with a kidney-formed capping of

precipitous rock. Drinkable water, like that of the Wady el-Ghál,

is said to be found in the Wady el-Kibrít to the north-east; and

the country is everywhere tolerably wooded. The Bedawin brought

us small specimens of rock-crystal and fragments of Negro-quartz,

apparently rich in metal, from a neighbouring "Maru." They placed

it amongst the hill-masses to the east and south; and we

afterwards found it for ourselves.[EN#148]

Our middle Sulphur-hill differs essentially from the other two

deposits, the northern near Makná, and the southern near El-Wijh,

in being plutonic and not sedimentary. One would almost say that

it smokes, and the heat-altered condition of the granite, the

greenstone, and other rocks, looking as if fresh from a fire,

suggests that it may be one of the igneous veins, thrown westward

by the great volcanic region, El-Harrah. In parts it is a

conglomerate, where a quantity of quartz takes the place of chalk

and gypsum. Other deposits are iron-stained and have the

appearance of the decomposed iron pyrites which abounds in this

neighbourhood. Usually the yield is the normal brimstone-yellow,

yet some of the beds are deep red, as if coloured by ochre or

oxide of iron: this variety is very common in the solfataras of

Iceland; and I have heard of it in the Jebel Mokattam, near

Cairo. The colour is probably due to molecular changes, and

possibly shows greater age than the yellow.

M. Philipin was directed to take charge of Sergeant Mabrúk, the

nine quarrymen, and the Bedawi owners of two camels to carry his

boring-irons, forge, and water from El-Muwaylah. I advised him to

dig at least forty feet down all round the pyramid, wherever

surface-indications attracted notice: old experience had taught

me that such depth is necessary before one can expect to find

brimstone beds like those of Sicily. The borings brought up

sulphur from fourteen metres; beyond these, six were pierced, but

they yielded nothing. In and around the pyramid M. Philipin sank

five pits; the northernmost shaft, half-way up the hill, gave

crystals of the purest sulphur.

If the depth of the deposit be not great, the surface extent is.

The pyramid evidently forms the apex of a large vein which

strikes north-south. The field consists of this cone with its

dependencies, especially the yellow cliffs to the north and the

south, facing, in the latter direction, a large plain cut by the

Wady el-Kibrít. Moreover, a vein of the red variety, about three

kilometres long by twenty-five to thirty metres broad, lies to

the south-east near a gypsum hill: the latter also yields the

crystallized salt which so often accompanies sulphur, and heaps

of gigantic half-fossilized oyster-shells are strewed about it.

M. Philipin here remained sixteen days (February 18--March 5),

during our absence in the East Country; on return we found our

good blacksmith much changed for the worse. Whilst in hard work

he had been half-starved, the Jeráfín Bedawin of the

neighbourhood having disappeared with their flocks; he had been

terribly worried by the cameleers, and he had been at perpetual

feud with the miserable quarrymen. I never saw a man less fitted

to deal with (two-legged) "natives." The latter instinctively

divined that he would rather work himself than force others to

work; and they acted accordingly.

The Expedition was thus divided into four, three working parties

and one of idlers. Anton and Petros were left behind to do

nothing as magazine-men.

Lieutenant Darwaysh (the linesman) who was too weak to ride, and

Sub-Lieutenant Mohammed (the miner) who was too old to travel,

had charge of the sick; both found the far niente equally sweet.

On February 17th I again bade adieu to the gunboat Mukhbir, and

marched with the largest party upon our camp at El-Muwaylah,

distant about six miles (=one hour and forty-five minutes). The

path from Sharm Yáhárr crosses the hard sands of the maritime

plain, metalled with the natural macadam of the Desert. The stone

is mostly dark silex, the "hen's liver" of the Brazil, and its

surface is kept finely polished, and free from "patina," by the

friction of the dust-laden winds. The line is deeply gashed by

short, broad gullies: the Hajj-road, running further east, heads

these ugly Nullahs. The third and largest channel is Wady Surr,

the great valley of El-Muwaylah, which may be regarded as the

southern frontier of "Madyan" (Proper): we shall trace it to its

head in the Hismá.

I had left the camp-pitching at El-Muwaylah to the Egyptian

officers, who naturally chose the site nearest the two northern

wells; a wave of ground hot by day, cold at night, windy and

dusty at all times; moreover, the water was near enough to be

horribly fouled. No wonder that in such a place many of the men

fell ill, and that one subsequently died--our only loss during

the four months' march.

On February 18th we proceeded, under the misguidance of a

Básh-Buzúk of the fort, Ahmed Sálih el-Mal'ún, to inspect a

neighbouring ruin called Abá Hawáwít--"the Father of (Dwelling-)

Walls." Wallin (p. 30) declares that, "finding no mention made of

Muweilih in Arab manuscripts, nor traces or traditions among the

existing generation in the land, pointing to a high antiquity,"

he is inclined to consider it a town of modern origin, in fact

the growth of the Egyptian pilgrimage. His error is excusable. He

was a passing traveller; and I well remember that for a whole

year the true name of a hill immediately behind our house at

Damascus remained unknown to me: we had called it after our own

fashion, and the term had at once been adopted by all our

over-polite native friends. Indeed, this is one of the serious

difficulties to be encountered, throughout the East, by the

scrupulous traveller whose greatest fear is that of misleading

others. The Expedition had paid four several visits to

El-Muwaylah, and had never heard a word about ruins, when I

happened to read out before the Shaykhs assembled at Magháir

Shu'ayb a passage from El-Makrízi treating of the destroyed

cities of Madyan. They at once mentioned half a dozen names lying

within short distances of the "little salt." Amongst them was Abú

Hawáwít, literally meaning "tenement walls," but here applied, in

the short form Hawáwít, to ruins in general.

Had "Wali Háji," as Wallin was called by the Bedawin, looked only

ten feet beyond the north-eastern tower of the fort, near the ruins

of a modern Mastabah ("masonry bench"), he would have found long-

forgotten vestiges of ovens and slags containing copper and iron.

The same will prove to be the case about the inland defence of El-

Wijh; in fact, all these works seem for obvious reasons to have been

built upon sites that have been utilized long before their modern

day. El-Muwaylah was probably a more important place than it is at

present, when the reef-harbour, which now admits native craft only

by a gap to the south-west, had not been choked by shoals. The sandy

soil wants only water to produce a luxuriant perennial growth, and

every garden can have its well. But more life is wanting; a man

heaps up a thorn-hedge, or builds a swish-wall of the brick-clay

underlying the Wady, and he forgets only to lay out the field

within. Local history does not, it is true, extend beyond two

hundred years or so, the probable date of Shaykh Abdullah's

venerated sepulchre, a truncated parallelogram of cut coralline on

the Wady Sughayyir to the north of the settlement. Yet this "little

salt" is too remarkable a site to have remained unoccupied. Possibly

it is the "<Greek>," the Horse Village (and fort ?), which Ptolemy

(vi. II) places in north lat. 26° 40' (true 27° 40'), whilst his

"<Greek>" would be the glorious Shárr, correctly consigned to north

lat. 27° 20'. This argues an error of nearly sixty miles by the

geographer or his copyists. But Chapter XII. will attempt to show

that the latitude of <Greek>, the modern Shuwák, is also one degree

too low. So on the East African coast Ptolemy places his Aromata

Promontorium, which can only be "Guardafui," between north lat. 5°

and 7°, whereas it lies in north lat. 11° 41' 4".

The Awwal Hawáwít, or first ruins, begin on the right bank of the

Surr after one mile and three quarters from camp; and bear

north-east (55° mag.) from the minaret of El-Muwaylah Fort. The

position is a sandy basin, containing old Bedawi graves, bounded

by a low ridge forming a boulder-clad buttress to the Wady, while

the circuit of the two may be a mile and a half. A crumbling

modern tower, crowning the right bank, and two Mahrákah

("rub-stones") were the principal remains. The situation must

have been well chosen in the days when the heights were wooded,

and the Wady was a river. We afterwards mapped the body of the

place, lying about three miles from the fort, showing the Yubú'

bank to north-west (298° mag.); and nearly due west (260° mag.)

El-Muwaylah's only house, the Sayyid's. The site is a holm or

island in the Wady Surr, which here runs east-west, and splits:

the main line is the southern, and a small branch, a mere gully,

occupies the northern bed-side.

The chief ruin is an oblong of twenty metres by sixteen, the

short ends facing 195° (mag.); the whole built of huge pebbles.

The interior is composed of one large room to the north, with

sundry smaller divisions to the south, east, and west. Defence

was secured by a wall, distant 142 metres, thrown across the

whole eastern part of the islet: outside it are three large pits,

evidently the site of cisterns. The people also told us of a

well, the Bir el-Ashgham, which has long been mysteriously

hidden. Immense labour has also been expended in revetting the

northern and southern banks, both of the islet and the smaller

branch-bed, for many hundreds of yards with round and

water-rolled boulders, even on a larger scale than at Magháir

Shu'ayb. What all this work meant we were unable to divine.

Perhaps it belonged to the days when the seaboard of Midian was

agricultural; and it was intended as a protection against the two

torrents, the Wadys el-Zila' and Abú Zabah, which here fall into

the northern bank.

The 18th of February also made itself memorable to the second

Expedition. M. Marie was strolling near the old furnaces to the

north-east of the fort where, in 1877, he had picked up an

auriferous specimen, unfortunately lost before it reached Cairo.

Here he again found a fragment of serpentine, broken and

water-rolled into the semblance of half a globe; it showed crust

and stains of iron, filets of white quartz, and a curve (~) of

bright yellow dots, disposed like the chainlet of an aneroid.

Thereupon, we gravely debated whether these were the remains of a

vein, or had been brought to the surface by the rubbing and

polishing of the stone in water.

I could not but remark that the interior, which appeared

pyritiferous, did not show the slightest trace of precious metal.

Still the discovery gave fresh courage to all our people. The

trophy was shown to every Bedawi, far and near, with the promise

of a large reward (fifty dollars) to the lucky wight who could

lead us to the rock in situ. The general voice declared that the

"gold-stone" was the produce of Jebel Malayh (Malíh): we

afterwards ascertained by marching up the Wady Surr that it was

not. In fact, the whole neighbourhood was thoroughly well

scoured; but the results were nil. In due course of time the

tarnishing and the disappearance of the metal reduced my

scepticism to a certainty: the "gold dots" were the trace of some

pilgrim or soldier's copper-nailed boot. It was the first time

that this ludicrous mistake arose, but not the last--our native

friends were ever falling into the same trap.

Amongst the minor industries of the Fort el-Muwaylah must be

reckoned selling gazelles. The Bedawin bring them in, and so

succeed in taming the timid things that they will follow their

owner like dogs, and amuse themselves with hopping upon his

shoulders. When thus trained, "Ariel" is supposed to be worth

half a napoleon. The wild ones may be bought at almost every

fort, as Zibá or El-Wijh.

Chapter X.

Through East Midian to the Hismá.

The Land of Midian is by no means one of the late Prince

Metternich's "geographical expressions." The present tenants of

the soil give a precise and practical definition of its limits.

Their Arz Madyan extends from El-‘Akabah north (north lat. 29°

28') to El-Muwaylah with its Wady, El-Surr (north lat. 27° 40').

It has thus a total latitudinal length of 108 direct geographical

miles.[EN#149] South of this line, the seaboard of North-Western

Arabia, as far as El-Hejaz, has no generic name. The Bedawin are

contented with such vague terms, derived from some striking

feature, as "the Lands of Zibá," "of Wady Salmá," "of Wady

Dámah," "of El-Wijh," to denote the tract lying between the

parallels of El-Muwaylah and of Wady Hamz (<Arabic>) in north

lat. 25° 55' 15. Thus the north-south length of the southern

moiety would be 105 direct geographical miles, or a little less

than the northern; and the grand total would be 213 miles.

The breadth of this Egyptian province is determined by the

distance from the sea to the maritime mountains. In Madyan

Proper, or North Midian, the extremes would be twenty-four and

thirty-five miles. For the southern half these figures may be

doubled. Here, again, the Bedawin are definitive as regards

limits. All the Tihámah or "lowlands" and their ranges belong to

Egypt; east of it the Daulat Shám, or Government of Syria, claims

possession.

I have taken the liberty of calling the whole tract Midian; the

section above El-Muwaylah (Madyan Proper) I would term "North

Midian," and that below it "South Midian." In the days of the

ancient Midianites the frontiers were so elastic that, at times,

but never for a continuity, they embraced Sinai, and were pushed

forward even into Central Palestine. Moreover, I would prolong

the limits eastward as far as the Damascus-Medínah road. This

would be politically and ethnologically correct. With the

exception of the Ma'ázah country, the whole belongs to Egypt; and

all the tribes, formerly Nabathæan, are now more or less

Egypto-Arab, never questioning the rights of his Highness the

Viceroy, who garrisons the seaboard forts. Of the other points,

historical and geographical, I am not so sure. My learned friend,

Aloys Sprenger, remarks: "Let me observe that your extending the

name ‘Midian' over the whole country, as far south as the

dominions of the Porte, appears to me an innovation by which the

identity of the race along the shore of the Gulf of ‘Akabah,

coast down to Wajh and Hawrá, is prejudged. Would it not be

better to leave Midian where it always has been, and to consider

Badá[EN#150] the centre of Thamûditis, as it was at the time of

Pliny and Ptolemy, and as it continued to be until the Balee

(Baliyy), and other Qodhâ' (Kudá') tribes, came from Southern

Arabia, and exterminated the Thamûdites?" This is, doubtless, a

valid objection: its only weak point is that it goes too far

back. We cannot be Conservatives in geography and ethnology; nor

can we attach much importance, in the nineteenth century, to a

race, the Beni Tamúd, which had wholly disappeared before the

seventh. On the whole, it still appears to me that by adopting my

innovation we gain more than we lose; but the question must be

left for others to decide.

In our days, two great Sultánis or "highways" bound Madyan the

Less and Midian the Greater. The western, followed by the Hajj

el-Misri (Egyptian caravan), dates from the age of Sultán Selim

Khán the Conqueror; who, before making over the province to the

later Mamlúk Beys, levelled rocks, cut through ridges, dug wells,

laid out the track, and defended the line by forts. Before that

time the road ran, for convenience of water, to the east or

inland: it was, in fact, the old Nabathaean highway which,

according to Strabo, connected Leukè Kóme with the western

capital, Petra. Further east, and far beyond the double chain of

maritime mountains, is the highway followed by the Hajj el-Shámi

(Syrian or Damascus caravan), which sets out from Constantinople,

musters at Damascus, and represents the Sultan. On both these

main lines water is procurable at almost every station; and to

them military expeditions are perforce limited. The parallelogram

between the two, varying in breadth, according to Wallin, from 90

to 120 miles (direct and geographical), is irregularly supplied

in places with springs, wells, and rain-pits, which can always be

filled up or salted by the Bedawin.

The main body of the Expedition, Mr. Clarke, MM. Marie and

Lacaze, Ahmed Kaptán, and Lieutenant Amir, set out from

El-Muwaylah at 6.30 a.m. (February 19th), escorted by the Sayyid

and the three salaried Shaykhs, including our friend Furayj. The

Remingtons numbered ten, and there were also ten picks, of whom

five waited upon the mules; of the sixty-one camels six were

dromedaries, and as the road grew lighter our beasts of burden

increased, somehow or other, to sixty-four. The caravan now loads

in twenty minutes instead of five hours; and when politiké, or

fear of danger, does not delay us, we start in a quarter of an

hour after the last bugle-sound. This operation is under charge

of Lieutenant Amir, who does his best to introduce Dar-Forian

discipline: the camels being first charged with the Finátís

("metal water-barrels"), then with the boxes, and lastly with the

tents.

After passing the ruins of Abú Hawáwit, we began at 9:15 a.m. to

exchange the broad Wady Surr of the flat seaboard, with its tall

banks of stiff drab clay, for a gorge walled with old

conglomerates, and threading the ruddy and dark-green foot-hills

of the main Ghát. As in the Wady el-Maka'dah and other

"winter-brooks," the red porphyritic trap, heat-altered argil,

easily distinguished by its fracture from the syenites of the

same hue, appeared to be iron-clad, coated with a thin crust of

shiny black or brown peroxide (?). This peculiarity was noticed

by Tuckey in the Congo, by Humboldt in the Orinoco, and by myself

in the São Francisco river; I also saw it upon the sandstones of

the wild mountains east of Jerusalem, where, as here, air and not

water must affect the oxide of iron. In both cases, however, the

cause would be the same, and the polish would be a burnishing of

Nature on a grand scale.

After six very slow miles we halted, for rest and refection, at a

thread of water in the section of the Surr which receives the

Wady el-Najil. The sides were crowded with sheep and goats, the

latter, as in the Syrian lowlands, almost invariably black; and

the adjoining rocks had peculiar attractions for hares, hawks,

and partridge. In these upland regions water is almost

everywhere, and generally it is drinkable; hence the Bedawin

naturally prefer them to the coast. An umbrella-shaped

thorn-tree, actually growing on a hill-top, and defined by the

sky-line, excited our wonder and admiration; for here, as in

Pontus--

"Rara, nec hæc felix, in apertis eminet arvis

Arbor, et in terra est altera forma maris."

Indeed, throughout our journey this spectacle always retained its

charms, aiding Fancy to restore the barrens to what they had been

in the prosperous days of yore.

The Wady Surr now began to widen out, and to become more riant,

whilst porphyry was almost the only visible rock. After a total

of ten "dawdling" miles, marching almost due east, we found our

tents pitched in a broad and quasi-circular basin, called El-Safh

("the level ground of") Jebel Malíh ("Mount Pleasant"?), which

the broad-speaking Bedawin lengthen to Malayh. Our camel-men had

halted exactly between two waters, and equally distant from both,

so as to force upon us the hire of extra animals. We did not

grumble, however, as we were anxious to inspect the Afrán

("furnaces") said to be found upon the upper heights of the

Shárr--of these apocryphal features more hereafter. Fresh

difficulties! The Jeráfín-Huwaytát tribe, that owns the country

south of the Surr, could not be reached under a whole day of

dromedary-riding: in reality they were camped a few furlongs off,

but anything to gain £8 per diem for doing nothing! Two Bedawi

shepherd-lads promised to act guides next morning, and duly

failed to appear, or, more probably, were forbidden to appear.

They had also romanced about ruins, fountains, palms, and rushes

in the Wady el-Kusayb, the south-eastern influent. At night Ahmed

el-‘Ukbi, surnamed Abú Khartúm, arrived in camp: he had travelled

more than once to Tabúk, carrying grain, and though he had failed

as a merchant, he retained his reputation as a guide. As regards

the furnaces, he also, like Furayj, could speak only from

hearsay. Opinions were divided in camp: I saw clearly that a

stand was being made to delay us for four or five days; and,

despite grumbling, I resolved upon deferring the visit till our

return from the interior.

The first march had led us eastward, instead of north-eastward,

in order to inspect the Wady Surr. From the seaboard, this line,

which drains the northern flank of the Shárr Mountains, appears

the directest road into the interior. We shall presently see,

however, why the devious northern way of the Wady Sadr has become

the main commercial route connecting El-Muwaylah with

Tabúk.[EN#151] During the evening we walked up the Wady Surr,

finding, in its precipitous walls, immense veins of serpentine

and porphyritic greenstone, but not a speck of gold. The upper

part of the Fiumara also showed abundant scatters of water-rolled

stones, serpentines, and hard felspars, whose dove-coloured

surface was streaked with fibrils and at times with regular veins

of silvery lustre, as if brought out by friction of the surface.

I offered a considerable sum to a Jeráfín Bedawi if he would show

the rock in situ; he was evidently ignorant of it, but, like

others, he referred us to Jebel Malíh.

The whole of the next day (February 20th) was spent in northing.

Leaving the noisy braying caravan to march straight on its

destination, we set out (6.15 a.m.) up the Wady Guwaymarah,

guided by Hasan el-‘Ukbí, who declared that he well knew the

sites of the ruined settlements El-Khulasah and El-Zibayyib.

After walking half an hour we turned eastward into a feeder of

the Surr, the Wady el-Khulasah, whose aspect charmed me: this

drain of the inner Jedayl block was the replica of a Fiumara in

Somali-land, a broad tree-dotted flat of golden sand, bordered on

either side by an emerald avenue of dense Mimosas, forming line

under the green-stone hills to the right, and the red-stone

heights to the left. The interior, we again remarked, is

evidently more rained upon, and therefore less sterile and

desolate, than the coast and the sub-maritime regions; and here

one can well imagine large towns being built. At last, after

walking about an hour and a half (= four miles and a half)

towards the Shárr, with our backs turned upon our goal, the

rat-faced little intriguer, Hasan, declared that he knew nothing

about El-Khulasah, but that Zibayyib lay there! pointing to a

bright-red cliffy peak, "Abá'l-bárid," on the left bank of the

Wady, and to others whose heads were blue enough and low enough

to argue considerable distance. He had intended his cousin Gabr

to be the real guide, and to take to himself all the credit; but

I had sent off the parlous "judge" in another direction.

Mr. Clarke, whose cantering mule had no objection to leave its

fellows, rode off with the recreant Hasan, whilst we awaited his

return under a tree.

Instead of hugging Abá'l-bárid, behind which a watercourse would

have taken him straight to his destination, he struck away from

the Wady el-Khulasah. Then crossing on foot, and hauling his

animal over, a rough divide, he fell, after six miles instead of

two, into the upper course of the Wady Surr, which he reported to

be choked with stones, and refusing passage to loaded camels--as

will afterwards appear, the reverse is the case. The ruins of

El-Zibayyib lie at a junction of three, or rather four,

watercourses. The eastern is the Surr, here about five hundred

yards broad, forming a bulge in the bed, and then bending

abruptly to the south; a short line from the south-west, the Wady

Zibayyib, drains the Aba'‘l-bárid peak; and the northernmost is

the Wady el-Safrá,[EN#152] upon which the old place stands à

cheval. The western part is the larger and the more ruinous. The

thin line, three hundred yards long by thirty broad, never shows

more than two tenements deep, owing to the hill that rises behind

it: here the only furnace was found. The eastern block measures

one hundred yards by forty; both are razed to their basements,

resembling the miners' settlement on the Sharmá cliff. They

attract attention only by their material, red boulders being used

instead of the green porphyries of the hills; and the now

desolate spot shows no signs of water or of palm-groves.

Mr. Clarke rejoined us after a couple of hours, having lost the

dog ‘Brahim: under a sudden change of diet it had become too

confident of its strength, and thus it is that dogs and men come

to grief. We retraced our steps down the Wady el-Khulasah, whose

Jebel is the crupper of the little block Umm Jedayl. The lower

valley shows a few broken walls, old Arab graves, and other signs

of ancient habitation; but I am convinced that we missed the

ruins which lay somewhere in the neighbourhood. One Sulaymán, a

Bedawi of the Selálimah-Huwaytát tribe, who had been rascalized

by residence at El-Muwaylah, was hunted up by the energetic

Sayyid; hoping, as usual, that no action would be taken upon mere

words, he declared that El-Khulasah stood on the top of a

trap-lump. We halted to inspect it, and Lieutenant Amir rode the

Shaytánah, his vicious little she-mule, up and down steeps fit

only for a goat. Again all was in vain.

We then travelled over granite gravel along the western

foot-hills of Umm Jedayl, in which a human figure or statue had

been reported to me: now, however, it became a Sarbút, or

"upright stone." Along the flanks of the chief outlier, the Jebel

el-Ramzah, distinguished by its red crest and veins, the slope

was one strew of quartz, whole and broken; like that which we had

seen to the north, and which we were to see on our southern

journey. Despising the "rotten water" offered in two places by

the Umm Jedayl, we pitched camp on the fine gravel of the Sayl

Wady el-Jimm. Here I heard for the first time, after sighting it

for many weeks, that the latter is the name, not of a

mountain,[EN#153] but of a Sha'b or "gully" in the Jebel Dibbagh

where waters "meet." The Wady Kh'shabriyyah, separating the Umm

Jedayl from its northern neighbour, the Dibbagh, looks like a

highway; but all declare that it is closed to camels by Wa'r, or

"stony ground." Of its ruins more when we travel to the Shárr.

This day's march of four hours (= ten miles and a half) had been

a series of zigzags--north, north-east, west, and again north.

After a cool, pleasant night we set out at 6.30 a.m. (February

21st), across the broad Sayl, towards a bay in the mountains

bearing north-north-west, the mouth of the Wady Zennárah.

Entering the block, we made two short cuts to save great bends in

the bed. The first was the Sha'b el-Liwéwi', the Weiwî of Wallin

(p. 304)--wild riding enough; the path often winding almost due

east, when the general direction was north-north-east. We saw,

for the first time, pure greenish-yellow chlorite outcropping

from the granite. The animals were apparently hibernating, and

plants were rare; we remarked chiefly the sorrel and the blue

thistle, or rather wild artichoke, the Shauk el-Jemel, a thorn

loved by camels (Blepharis edulis), which recalled to mind the

highlands of Syria. The second short-cut, the Wady el-Ga'agah,

alias Sawáwín, was the worse of the two: the deep drops and

narrow gutters in the quartz-veined granite induced even the

Shaykhs to dismount before attacking the descents. This is rarely

done when ascending, for their beasts climb like Iceland ponies.

One of M. Lacaze's most effective croquis is that showing monture

and man disappearing in the black depths of a crevice. Some of

the hill-crests were weathered with forms resembling the

artificial. At the mid-day halting-ground we saw a stone-mother

nursing a rock-child, which might still be utilized in lands

where "thaumaturgy" is not yet obsolete.

Our course thence lay eastward up the easy bed of the Fiumara, an

eastern section of an old friend, the Wady Tiryam; it now takes

the well-known name "Wady Sadr," and we shall follow it to its

head in the Hismá. The scene is rocky enough for Scotland or

Scandinavia, with its huge walls bristling in broken rocks and

blocks, its blue slides, and its polished sheets of dry

watercourse which, from afar, flash in the sun like living

cataracts. On the northern or right bank rises the mighty Harb,

whose dome, single when seen from the west, here becomes a

Tridactylon, splitting into three several heads. Facing it, the

northernmost end of the Dibbagh range forms a truncated tower,

conspicuous far out at sea: having no name, it was called by us

Burj Jebel Dibbagh. A little further to the east it will prove to

be the monstrous pommel of a dwarf saddleback, everywhere a

favourite shape with the granite outcrop.

MM. Clarke and Lacaze, who had never before seen anything higher

that the hillocks of the Isle of Wight or the Buttes de

Montmartre were hot upon ascending the almost perpendicular sides

of the Burj, relying upon the parallel and horizontal fissures in

the face, which were at least ten to twenty feet apart. These

dark marks, probably stained by oxide of iron, reminded me of

those which wrinkle the granitic peaks about Rio de Janeiro, and

which have been mistaken for "hieroglyphs."

The valley-sole is parti-coloured; the sands of the deeper line

to the right are tinctured a pale and sickly green by the

degradation of the porphyritic traps, here towering in the

largest masses yet seen; while the gravel of the left bank is

warm, and lively with red grit and syenitic granite. Looking down

the long and gently waving line, we feel still connected with the

civilized world by the blue and purple screen of Sinai forming

the splendid back-ground. Everything around us appears deserted;

the Ma'ázah are up country, and the Beni ‘Ukbah have temporarily

quitted these grazing-grounds for the Surr of El-Muwaylah. We

camped for the night, after a total march of eleven miles, at the

Sayl el-Nagwah, a short Nullah at the foot of a granite block

similarly named; and a gap supplied us with tolerable rain-water.

On the next day (February 22nd) we left the "Nagwah" at seven

instead of six a.m., and passed to the right a granitic outcrop

in the Wady bed, a reduced edition of the Burj. After an hour's

slow walking we were led by a Bedawi lad, Hasan bin Husayn, to a

rock-spur projected northwards from the left side and separating

two adjacent Sayls or "torrent-beds," mere bays in the bank of

mountains. A cut road runs to the top of the granite tongue,

which faces the westernmost or down-stream outbreaks of the huge

porphyritic masses on the other side of the Wady Sadr. The ridge

itself is strewed with spalled stone, quartz broken from the

veins that seam the granite, and with slag as usual admirably

worked. Not a trace of human habitation appears, nor is there any

tradition of a settlement having existed here; consequently we

concluded that this was another atelier of wandering workmen.

Below the rock-tongue we found for the first time oxydulated iron

and copper, either free or engaged in trap and basaltic dykes:

the former metal, also attached in layers to dark-red vermeilled

jasper, here appears streaked with white quartz.

Resuming our ride, we dismounted, after four miles, at the

half-way Mahattah ("halting-place"): it is a rond-point in the

Wady Sadr, marked from afar by a tall blue pyramid, the Jebel

el-Ga'lah (Jálah). We spent some time examining this interesting

bulge. Here the Jibál el-Tihámah end, and the eastern parallel

range, the Jibál el-Shafah, begins. The former belong to the

Huwaytát and to Egypt; the latter, partly to the Ma'ázah and to

Syria. The geographical frontier is well marked by two large

watercourses disposed upon a meridian, and both feeding the main

drain, the Sadr-Tiryam. To the north the Wady Sawádah divides the

granitic Harb from the porphyritic Jebel Sawádah; while the

southern Wady Aylán separates the Dibbagh from the Jebel Aylán, a

tall form distinctly visible from the Upper Shárr. The rest of

our eastward march will now be through the Shafah massif. It

resembles on a lower scale the Tihámah Gháts; but it wholly wants

their variety, their beauty, and their grandeur. The granites

which before pierced the porphyritic traps in all directions, now

appear only at intervals; and this, I am told, is the case

throughout the northern, as we found it to be in the southern,

prolongation of the "Lip"-range. At the same time there is no

distinct geographical separation between the two parallels; and

both appear, not as if parted by neutral ground, but rather as

topographical continuations of each other.

While breaking our fast and resting the mules, a few shots

ringing ahead caused general excitement: we were now on the edge

of the enemy's country. Presently three of the Ma'ázah came in

and explained, with their barking voices, that their people had

been practicing at the Níshán ("target"); which meant "We have

powder in abundance." One of them, at once dubbed El-Nasnás ("the

Satyr") from his exceeding monstrous ugliness--a baboon's muzzle

with a scatter of beard--kindly volunteered to guide us, with the

intention of losing the way. The dialogue that took place was

something as follows:--

What are your names ?

A. Na'akal wa nashrab! Our names are "We eat and We drink!"

Where do we find water to-day?

Furayj ejaculates, "The water of the Rikáb!"

A. No, by Allah! The Arabs will never allow you to drink! You

should be killed for carrying off in Dumús ("skins") the sand of

the Wady Jahd (alluding to Lieutenant Amir's trip).

We did not pay much heed to these evil signs. Ahmed el-‘Ukbí had

been sent forward to obtain a free pass from the chiefs, and we

hardly expected that the outlying thieves would be daring enough

to attack us.